


got a license to kill (and you know I'm going straight for your heart)

by Hoothootmotherf_ckers



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: (yes all these tags apply at once just trust me), Alternate Universe - Assassins & Hitmen, Alternate Universe - Bodyguard, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, But with guns, Canon-Typical Violence, Drama, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/F, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Families of Choice, Fluff, Heist, Hostage Situations, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Sharing a Bed, Threats of Violence, but there's also a commentary on the american pharmaceutical industry?, so yeah uh buckle up, this is mostly an action movie romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2019-03-03
Packaged: 2019-09-26 09:41:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 21,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17139440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hoothootmotherf_ckers/pseuds/Hoothootmotherf_ckers
Summary: It’s a classic Candlenights tale - Lup is a big city professional, on a work trip in a small town over the holidays. Barry is a local barista, a shy young man with a heart of gold just hoping to have a nice Candlenights - despite having no one to share it with. Will Lup learn the meaning of Candlenights? Will Barry find a new friend - or maybe more? And will Lup be able to betray her employers andnotmurder him?Oh yeah, you read that right. Hey, Lup is a professionalwhat,exactly?





	1. noir protagonist, meet the personification of cream of wheat

And we pan up - up to the highest floor of an office building, a steel spire towering above the cobblestoned streets below. Winds lash at the glimmering windows, ripping through with haunting cries and echoes. It may not be midwinter, yet - but no one’s told the weather that. 

And we focus in on a palatial office, where two women appear to be having a respectful, absolutely calm, collected, and unemotional debate. 

“Yes. You’ll be with him at all times - work, his home, wherever. There are a number of covers we can give you, it’s all in the file.” Lydia Chiville, CEO of Wonderland Enterprises, Inc., sits behind a sweeping desk of dark red wood, polished to a shine. Her glittering nails gently tap the edges of a manila folder, and her posture is relaxed but her gaze is piercingly directed at the woman before her.

On the other side of the desk, a young woman leans forward in her chair, short waves of dark hair obscuring her face as she scrutinizes the file. She leans back, as calm as could be. “I do have one last question, actually.” 

“Oh?” Lydia asks, one eyebrow elegantly raised. 

“Why the _fuck_ are you hiring me to protect a _BARISTA!?_ ”

The woman’s smile never falters. “Does that really matter? It’s a nice, simple job and you’ll be paid handsomely for it. Lupita - may I call you Lupita?”

“No. Call me Lup,” Lup says flatly. 

“Lup, then. You have an extensive resume, I know this is simpler than your average job.” Lup can’t figure out what about Lydia’s smile is so unnerving. It’s not faked, but there’s almost too much emotion behind it. “I also know how much you are usually paid. Please, do not insult my generosity. It’s a simple job and I’m not paying you to ask questions.” 

“Well, okay, it’s your money I guess,” Lup says, frowning as she takes the file. 

“Precisely.” 

 

Evening finds Lup curled up on the battered but soft couch in her apartment, casually flipping through a file. Barry J. Bluejeans - yes, Bluejeans, really - 27 years old, currently working at the Davy Latte. No criminal background. No suspicious ties to any unsavory individuals or organizations. Not much family, and all of them are kind and friendly and utterly generic. Much like this Bluejeans, honestly. He looks like the kind of guy who finds ketchup too spicy. She sighs, dramatically flinging her body across the sofa. This job isn’t going to be a challenge at all. 

The next day dawns on a sleepy Lup, already bored before she’s even started. It’s an ungodly hour of the morning - she’s supposed to meet Bluejeans at his home before he heads to work, and the café opens at 6:30 am. So here she is as the dim glow of sunrise shines through bare-limbed trees, outside a nondescript townhouse on a nondescript street. She knocks twice and steps back to wait. After a moment, the door opens on a young man in dark jeans and a neat button down, light brown hair still damp from a shower. 

“Barry Bluejeans?” she asks briskly. He looks confused.

“Uh, yeah, hi. Are you- did Lydia-” He stumbles through his wording a bit and she rolls her eyes.

“Look, mind if I come in? We need to talk about this.” 

“Oh, yeah, sure, of course.” He opens the door for her and she steps through, making a lightning fast assessment of the room she find herself in. To the right, a neat living room, with two worn but soft brown sofas and a Candlenights bush, undecorated. A small pile of folded bedding implies that she’ll be sleeping here. Adequate. 

She makes a similar scan of the kitchen on her left as she absently talks. “You know, you got very lucky just now.”

“What do you-”

She spins on her heel, pointing finger guns at Bluejeans. “Bang, bang. You didn’t ask for my credentials or even my name and you invited me into your home. You know there’s apparently someone out there who wants you dead, and if it had been me, guess what?” 

Bluejeans looks flustered. Is he blushing? Well hey, if she’s apparently embarrassing him, it could be worse. She could be doing this in front of Lydia. 

“Here’s my card, you can call with Lydia to confirm. Yes, I know what that says, but just call me Lup. I’m on a two week contract, so - are you okay?” 

He hasn’t taken her card, and is instead watching her with a kind of dazed expression. At the question, he jumps a bit and refocuses.

“Sorry, you just- you aren’t quite what I expected when Lydia said she was sending a bodyguard.” He shrugs and weakly smiles, and her estimation of him plummets.

“Why, because I’m a woman?” she snaps, eyes glaring. He looks startled and starts shaking his head frantically. 

“No! Oh, no, gosh, I’m so sorry, that’s not the slightest what I meant!” he babbles, looking mortified. “I’m so sorry, I’m sure you’re extremely competent and good at your job, I would never doubt you because of your gender, oh gosh.”

“Then what did you mean?” The apology is pretty funny, but she’s still too tired and annoyed to brush past this. 

“Er- I love your outfit, it looks wonderful, I just kind of assumed the aesthetic goal would be like, practical and unobtrusive,” he mutters, blushing an even brighter red.

Lup looks down at her cherry red peacoat, silver and black leggings, and elegant heeled boots, and then flashes a shark’s grin at her poor client. “Exactly, I need to blend in. And this is a nice, pretentious college town at Candlenights, I look great and also like every other rich girl here. Besides,” and she laughs, “you know just how many weapons you can hide in a getup like this?” She slides her sleeve up until a hint of a knife sheath can be seen. “Believe me, I am _very_ well equipped for the job.”

The man just looks like he wants the floor to swallow him up, and she can see him trying to subtly assess where else she might have weapons. It’s time for Lup’s real trump card.

She dramatically bats her eyelashes. “Oh, but I’m _so_ glad you like my outfit, dear,” she sighs, mimicking the particular cadence so many people in this area seem to have. Bluejeans somehow looks even more uncomfortable. “After all, my boyfriend’s opinions just matter _so much_ to me…” 

“Excuse me- your _WHAT?_ ” Bluejeans all but shrieks. Lup drops the act and smacks him across the chest with a folder. 

“Surprise, that’s the cover. I have to live with you for two weeks, it makes sense, you’ve got ten minutes to read the file before we get to leave for work.” She stalks over to perch on the edge of the couch and wait.

Ten minutes later on the dot, Bluejeans stops desperately flipping through the many pages of the file with a dramatic sigh. He grabs his backpack and pulls on a lumpy knitted beanie, shoulders hunching with anxiety. 

“It’s about a fifteen minute walk, I work over on-”

Lup interrupts him. “I know where you work, that’s kind of my job right now. I’ve already done some recon on your home, the café, the route there… need I go on?” 

“Right, yeah, okay, makes sense,” Bluejeans mutters. “Let’s- let’s just go then.”

The Davy Latte is a rustically charming kind of place. Rough hewn wooden tables and countertops are accented by brass fixtures, the overall look mimicking that of a cozy saloon. Barry starts bustling around behind the counter, getting everything set up before opening. Lup camps out in a small corner booth with a view of the bar and the door. She looks like just another tired college student getting work done in a place with easy access to caffeine and wifi,, though a glimpse at her screen would suggest otherwise. To do her job properly, she needs to know everything about Barry’s friends and acquaintances. That starts with his coworkers. As the sky brightens and the coffee shop becomes pleasantly busy, she works on creating her own files.

Killian Fangbattle: 31 years old, a little over six feet tall and muscular from assistant coaching the college rowing and archery teams. Has worked at the Davy Latte for the past six years. Married to Carey Fangbattle for four years now. Overall, unremarkably normal.

Carey Fangbattle is a little more interesting. A quick search of her name brings up dozens of clips from American Ninja Warrior. Turns out that about three years back she became one of the smallest people to ever win, at only five feet tall. But her short stature is made up for with sheer power - she has a background in gymnastics, freerunning, and multiple martial arts. She gets a few extra notes - she could be helpful to protecting Bluejeans, or she could be a more dangerous threat. 

But most of her research is focused on the owner of the Davy Latte, one Ren Mol’diira. Strangely, there’s not much out there about her before seven years ago, when she opened the café at the age of 22. It’s almost like - 

Lup’s research is interrupted by the woman herself sliding into the seat opposite, carrying two cups of coffee and some scones. 

“Hi there, it’s Lup, right?” Ren asks brightly. “You got a minute for a quick chat?”

“Er, sure,” Lup replies awkwardly. “What’s this about?” She does her best to close her laptop casually. 

Ren’s smile gets a sharp edge. “So, what’s your interest in our dear Barry?”

Lup sighs. Oh boy, the shovel talk. “Well, I met him when we were-”

“Nope! Cut the bullshit,” Ren says almost cheerily. Lup’s startled. 

“I’m sorry?”

“When you walked into here, you checked out every window and exit before picking the one booth with a view of all of them,” Ren says, ticking off numbers on her fingers. “I could maybe pass that off as anxiety, but you seem rather calm, while Barry is actually more nervous than usual. There’s also just the way you walk - it’s interesting how you’re in those big, stompy boots and yet you don’t make a sound.”

“I have some habits left over from my time in the military,” Lup says, hoping that the best lies really do contain some truth. “It’s not-”

“Oh, I know habits, Lup,” Ren smiles. “Habits do not account for a handgun, at least six knives, a taser, and I daresay more weapons that I’m missing. You’re very good, but you could be better.”

Lup’s jaw drops. How on earth could this woman know this? “You-”

“Let me repeat the question,” Ren says firmly. “What is your interest in Barry? Be aware, you’re not the only one here who’s armed and if you get violent, I _will_ have to ask you to leave.”

Lup sighs and slumps forward onto the table. “Ms. Mol’diira, I know you mean well, but you just made my job so much harder.” She slides over a business card. “I’m a bodyguard. I’m not a threat to Bl- Barry, I’ve been paid to protect him for the next few weeks. Dating is a cover my employer supplied me with.”

Ren’s reading the card with intent, but her head snaps up at this. “Your employer. Mind telling me who that is?”

Lup groans. “It’s confidential! Look, I’ve already said too much. You’re going to have to explain this to your staff, too, because you’ve absolutely drawn their attention.” Lup gestures over at the Fangbattles, who try very hard to look like they haven’t been watching this whole encounter. “Please, can you stop interrogating me and just let me do my job?” 

Ren’s gaze is piercing. “Fine. I’ll help you come up with a better cover too because dating? That would work if most of your job wasn’t just stalking your ‘boyfriend’ in a café all day. We can get you something better.” She slides over a cup of coffee and some scones. “Also, I do appreciate what you’re doing. Baked goods are on the house.”

“Oh, uh, thanks,” Lup stumbles, accepting the snacks. Ren smiles, gives a little salute, and heads back behind the counter to do who knows what.   
Lup resumes her search, now determined to find anything about this strange, unnerving woman. But despite her best efforts, which dip into less-than-legal resources by the end, there’s nothing - literally nothing, which shouldn’t be possible. Ren Mol’diira, the nice, lovable café owner, sprang into existence seven years ago. That’s… worrying. Lup’s not the police, she relies on her own moral code, and Istus knows she can’t judge someone for hiding or abandoning their past. The woman currently going by the name of Ren has no black marks on that record, nothing threatening at all, and she has a clear desire to keep Bluejeans safe. Alright, Lup can work with that.

She solidifies that opinion when, a few hours later, Ren slides her a cup of coffee with a folded napkin and a wink. It reads, in an elegant scrawl, _you’re a grad student at UPhan. pick a science you can bullshit your way through a conversation - B is… a lot, but mostly biomed+chem engineering, that’s how you met. you’ve stuck around for candlenights to support your bf but also to work on your thesis, which is what you’re doing here. also, pro tip? hide the throwing knives better._

Hours later, when Barry’s shift ends, Lup leaves a napkin of her own tucked under the tip. All she writes is _astrophysics. thx._

When they get back to the house that night, an anxious looking Bluejeans immediately rushes to the kitchen, banging pots and pans around in a scramble to find something to do away from Lup. She doesn’t mind. 

Quietly, Lup steps out front and watches the crumbling brown leaves swirl in the gutter. She nonchalantly pulls a small flip phone from an inner pocket of her coat and dials a number by muscle memory. It’s picked up on the first ring.

A distorted voice comes through the phone, layers of filters disguising any features. “Have you secured access to the objective?”

“Access secured. Some slight obstacles, nothing I can’t handle. Estimating three days to objective, two days after for cleanup. I don’t anticipate many loose ends.” 

“Excellent. Check in after it’s done. We’ll prepare an extraction.”

“Copy that. L out.” 

Lup smiles and absently traces one of the knives under her coat. No, this job won’t be difficult at all.


	2. what’s the opposite of a slow burn because Lup is making Kravitz look good at his job

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lup gave herself three days to complete the assassination, and now the clock is ticking. Her only obstacle? Kindness and heartwarming yet tragically familiar backstories, apparently!

The next day starts much the same as the last. Bluejeans is shy, awkward, clearly uncomfortable around Lup. She doesn’t make much of an effort to reach out. He’s just a shy, awkward guy with no social skills, and she’s just a woman with a job. 

That opinion starts to shift as the day goes on. Bluejeans and the Fangbattles seem to rotate roles, so today her charge - her mark - is at the till. She’s watching him a little more intently than usual, interested in how he would handle such a social, people-oriented role. And at first, he is awkward, clearly more stressed than usual. But as time passes, that changes.

A small, independent cafe like this has a lot of regulars. And Bluejeans knows each one of them by name. He knows their orders, their allergies, their lives and careers and families. Lup watches as he coos over a baby who’s just started teething, asks a middle aged couple how their children are doing in school, and even steps out to hug a young woman who’s on the verge of crying from stress. 

Carey, taking a break from dish duty, comes to stand by Lup and shakes her head fondly. “We have to schedule him out there on the slow days,” she says, smiling. “He’s like this with everyone, we’d never get through the rush.” 

Lup does her best to ignore him for the rest of the day, ignore how he knows a small child’s favorite animal, how he congratulates a young couple on getting engaged. She can’t humanize him like this. She has a job to do. 

She’s especially quiet that evening, staying silent through the simple but good dinner he cooks for them. She spends hours on mental notes, dithering over the best way to kill him. It’s a good way to ignore her emotions.

But the next day is worse. This time, he’s making the drinks. Who would’ve guessed someone as neutral looking as Bluejeans would be this good at latte art? Lup is not exactly a connoisseur of coffee. Her priorities tend to aim for the greatest caffeine to cost ratio, which leads her to shitty diners at 2 am, not the kind of places that you’d put on Instagram. She’s out of her element in the Davy Latte, and Ren has almost certainly picked up on that. 

Which is why Lup wants to curse her when she swoops by her little corner booth with a wink and a cup of coffee before disappearing into the back room to do… whatever Ren does all day. Lup sighs and takes the cup, preparing to just chug it and get back to work, but she’s startled into pausing. This coffee is not the intense espresso she was given when Carey worked the machines, or the too-sweet mocha she got from Killian. No, this coffee is a work of art.

The mug is chunky and rustic, a beautiful mottled blue color. It contrasts wonderfully with the golden brown of a creamy latte, swirled into a brilliant burst of flames. Lup has no idea how Barry did this, how he managed to create depth and contrast with the white foam and accents of cocoa powder. Instinctively, she looks over to his position behind the counter, where he gives a nervous, questioning smile and two tentative thumbs up. Holding back a smile herself, she repeats the gesture. He grins, and it’s blinding. 

Lup doesn’t get much sleep that night, which she tries to blame on the coffee. She’s trying to adjust her assassination plans. He still has to die. That has to happen, it’s out of her hands, Lup would be risking her own life to do otherwise. But maybe she can make it painless, simple. So she strikes off the ideas of a simple mugging, of a staged car accident, of a burglary gone wrong. 

When she walks to the café on the third day, there’s a vial of an odorless, untraceable poison in her coat pocket. 

Barry’s back on dish duty today, but it’s a slow day, dreary enough to convince potential customers to stay home. The hours drag, empty and dull, until early afternoon. That’s when he grabs two cups and makes his way over to Lup’s little booth. 

Lup sighs. This is perfect - she can just slip the poison into his drink, and in the four hours it’ll take to kick in she can build herself an ironclad alibi. It is, quite literally, the perfect crime. So why is she so sad?

Maybe it’s because Barry is looking at her with those kind eyes, no longer afraid or wary, but curious. But he’s dithering, there’s clearly something he wants to say, but he won’t and it’s getting awkward. 

Lup decides to break the ice. “So, uh, I have a weird question. Why did Ren say my cover should be staying here to support you?” 

He looks startled and a little sad. “Oh, er, probably because I’m spending Candlenights here. Alone. I’d usually go home, but I need the work, and Ren gives me a lot of hours over the break since she’s short staffed.”

He leans down to rummage through his apron pockets, and quick as a wink Lup slips the toxin into his drink. By the time he comes back up, it’s like she never moved. 

He holds out his phone to show Lup a photo. A younger, smiling Barry Bluejeans stands next to an older woman with soft grey hair and kind eyes. Barry has a soft, fond smile on his face as he says, “That’s my mom. It’s just me and her, and she’s- well, her health isn’t great. My student loans won’t be due until I graduate, so in the meantime I’m working, trying to send as much money home as I can, to help her.”

Oh, Lup thinks. That’s… a little too familiar. “That’s… that’s really admirable, Barry.” She gives him a strained smile. 

He smiles back. “Thanks. I do what I can. I just hope I can do more soon.”

“How so?” Lup’s become legitimately curious now.

“Well, between Ren and your research you know I’m a scientist, right?” he asks, a little bashful.

Lup nods. “Yeah, biomedical engineering major, chemical engineering minor, something about botany in some research project, brief stint in psychology, a really weird paper about volcanoes… I mean, honestly, is there any science you _don’t_ know?”

He flushes red. “I’m still working on a few, nuclear physics is kicking my ass. Anyway, that’s not relevant. Well, okay, kind of, but also kind of not. Anyway!” he declares loudly, adjusting his square rimmed glasses. “I’m a research scientist, technically a PhD student, right? So I research.”

He puts his head in his hands. Lup hears a muffled, “Yeah, that’s what a fucking _research_ scientist does, genius.”

She laughs. “Hey, no,” she says, “I want to hear about this. Tell me about your researchy research.”

Barry smiles awkwardly. “It’s- well, okay, ugh, I can’t actually tell you much about the cool project. It’s kind of - not classified, but proprietary, fuck, words. But I’m hoping it’ll be my big break.”

He looks down. “I just need something, some game changer. I’m just sort of stagnating, I’m sending what money I can home and my loans aren’t due yet, and it’s fine, but I’m trapped in this limbo. I just have to make this work, get this project to succeed. Then my mom can be secure and get the treatment she needs and I can think about graduating and getting… well, a not coffee shop job.”

He looks down at his mug with a wry smile. “Not that there’s anything wrong with here, exactly. Just… there’s so much out there to learn and discover and explore, and I want to see all of it someday.”

He lifts his mug to take a sip, and Lup panics. She lunges forward, yelling “FUCK,” and uses all her specialized military and assassin training to gracelessly whack him in the arm. The cup falls with a clatter, spilling Barry’s mocha across the table. Barry looks baffled, and now Lup’s the one blushing. “There was. A bug. Really big spider thing. So many legs.” 

“Well, uh, thanks, I guess?” Barry pulls a towel out of his apron and starts wiping down the table. Lup wants to sink into the floor. 

He finishes up wiping the table with a smile. “Actually, uh, I guess I have a question for you, too, if that’s alright.”

“Sure, shoot,” Lup says, rummaging through a list of neutral and vague answers to any potential personal questions. But yet again, Barry manages to blindside her.

“So, astrophysics?”

Lup freezes. Of fucking course Ren told him. Yes, there are so many answers she could give. But none of them feel right, feel fair. So Lup does something she very rarely does.

She tells the truth. 

“Okay, so I’m a bodyguard, security, that kind of thing, right?” He nods, and she takes a deep breath. “That was not exactly the original plan.”

“I was raised by my aunt, me and my brother. Had a bit of a rough start, but it was good, mostly. My brother and I worked our asses off. We were straight A students, valedictorians, the whole nine yards, and we clawed our way into that because we knew we had to, had to fight if we wanted to win.”

She looks down. “The only shot we had at going to college was getting one hell of a scholarship. We never had a lot of money, but, well, we had our hearts set on the stars.” Lup chuckles a little, pulling up a photo on her phone. “That’s us as kids. I’m the one in the cardboard spaceship, he’s the one with a colander for an astronaut helmet.”

Barry’s laughing a little too. “Oh, that’s wonderful. So that’s why astrophysics?”

Lup’s smile grows sad. “Yeah, that’s why. We had binders and binders of detailed plans of how to get a job in IPRE, and for a while we had a shot, too. He got into Goldcliff College for chemistry, and. Well, I got a scholarship to the University of Tesseralia.”

Barry whistles. “ _Damn,_ Lup, that’s amazing.” 

She sighs. “Yeah, it was. It was wonderful, for two years. And then my aunt got sick.” 

Barry reaches over to take her hand, concern plain in his eyes. She lets him.

“She passed away my junior year, after being sick for quite a while. And we had medical bills, so many fucking medical bills, and a funeral, and that on top of college fees. We couldn’t do it. So we had to drop out.”

She’s _not_ tearing up in front of Barry, damn it. 

“We had to look for so many jobs, whatever we could scrounge up.” Hopefully he takes that as like, retail or something, not the very illegal truth. Because Lup and her brother are clever, maybe too clever. They knew that if they were going to pay off their debts, they needed money fast. So, as he liked to say in a very dramatic voice, they turned to a life of crime. Mostly thefts and smuggling on his end, but Lup got a little more involved in the really shady shit. 

“My brother finally found a solid job at a bakery, enough for him to live comfortably, but it wasn’t enough for both of us, and definitely not the terrifying mountain of debt. And there’s not really a lot you can get with half an astrophysics degree and not a lot of marketable skills.” Well, not a lot you can get that’s legal. Technically, knowing how to steal a car or forge a passport are _very_ marketable skills, in the right market. “So I ended up going into the military, because it was about all I had the experience for. From, uh, martial arts and things.” Again, not a lie, but _man_ that’s not the whole truth. 

She sighs, feeling worse and worse about hiding the truth. “I left after two years, which was as soon as I could. I’d built up enough money and a resume for me to start doing my own thing. So technically I’m freelance now. Bodyguarding, security,” _assassinations, murder,_ “you know, all that jazz.”

“Gosh, Lup, I’m sorry,” Barry says. “That’s… a lot.”

She laughs bitterly. “Yeah, it sure is.”

“Do you think…” Barry’s hesitant again. “Would you ever go back to school? To astrophysics?”

She stares down at the table. “Barry… I’m a 27 year old college dropout, with an unreliable income from a job that cannot coexist with a college schedule, and very few skills to fall back on.” She’s tearing up again. “I’d do it in a heartbeat, if I actually had a shot.” 

“You _do_ ,” Barry says insistently. “You’re a genius, Lup. You’re talented and clever and dedicated, and I know I’ve only known you for four days, but I really think you could do this.”

Lup looks at him, a horrible twisting feeling beginning in her chest. “Thank you, Barry. I’ll think about it.”

He’s still holding her hand, awkwardly reaching across the table. She realizes it about a second before he does, and she sees him jump a tiny bit and nearly retract his hand. But he doesn’t. And she doesn’t either. 

And then Ren, that _fucker,_ pops up from behind Lup with a cheery wave. Barry makes a squawking sound and lets go, flailing back into his seat. Lup stares, trying to figure out how the hell this tiny woman snuck up on a professional assassin. Ren seems to be enjoying their panic. 

“Hey y’all!” she chirps. “Glad you’re having a heart to heart here, and we’ve been trying to give you space, but Barry you _are_ still on the clock and there’s dishes! Like, a _lot_ of dishes.” She gestures behind the bar, where the Fangbattles seem to be building some kind of castle out of dirty dishware and cutlery. The drawbridge of knives is a nice touch. 

Barry mutters an excuse and rushes to the kitchen, apron flapping. Lup tries to ignore Ren and her steadfast cheeriness. 

“Glad to see you’re getting better with the _cover_ ,” Ren says, smile dropping. “I think this is the part where I tell you that if you break his heart, they’ll never find your body.”

Lup stares at Ren, knowing that _somehow_ this woman has the skills and knowledge to back up that threat. “Don’t worry,” she says flatly, crushing down the feeling in her chest. “I’m just doing my job. Two weeks and I’ll be gone, out of your hair. He knows that.” 

Over in the kitchen, she sees Barry’s shoulders droop. Fuck, he wasn’t supposed to hear that. That feeling in her chest grows heavy and cold. 

Ren’s eyes narrow. “Fine. Not what I meant, but I see where your priorities lie.” She spins, dark hair flying, and storms back into the kitchen, leaving Lup exhausted and baffled.

The walk home that day is quiet, neither party knowing quite what to say. Lup hangs back on the doorstep, taking out that flip phone yet again. She dials and waits, not daring to breathe.

It’s picked up by her employer, the tinny, warped voice sounding expectant. “Status update - is the objective complete?” 

Lup stares out into the road, watching cars drive by. “Not yet. I need more time.”


	3. shit goes to hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lup made her choices. Now she has to deal with the consequences.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw: canon-typical violence and injury, except with guns

When they head out the next morning, they haven’t even crossed the threshold when Lup stops, grabbing Barry’s arm by the sleeve. He turns back, quizzical and she takes a breath, closes her eyes. Pretends to ignore the shadowy figure not quite hiding in the doorway of a neighboring building, nonchalant and inconspicuous. 

“We need to go see Lydia. Now.” 

“Uh, okay…” Barry replies, clearly puzzled. “Is this about guarding me? Because like, I do still have a job and I’d like to keep it.”

_Damn it_. “You can call Ren on the way, she knows what’s up, she can give you a day off,” Lup begs, desperate and a little frantic. She has to speak to Lydia, has to keep Barry safe, has to get herself the fuck out of here before that person has a chance to do… what they’re there to do. She knows how her employer operates, hell, she’s been on the other side of this situation many times before.

If an operative falters, if a mission seems close to failure, a secondary asset is sent into the field. They complete the objective. They remove the obstructions.

Lup faltered. Lup is now an obstruction. 

Lup pulls Barry closer, glad she can use his body to block the shadow’s view of her face and prevent them from reading her lips. “Barry Bluejeans, listen to me,” she hisses, eyes wide and terrified. “Lydia’s office has security, and it has _witnesses_. We need to get you there _now_ or we’re both dead.” 

“Fuck, okay, okay, I’ll grab my keys, shit.” Barry starts rummaging through his jacket. Lup does much the same, but while Barry lands on the keys to a 2003 Toyota Corolla, she finds a silenced pistol. 

Thankfully, Barry’s car is parked out on the street in front of his home, and it’s a simple matter to wait for a pair of college students to walk by before they rush to the car. Lup knows how this works. As long as there are witnesses, they won’t shoot. Barry and Lup’s survival rests in the hands of a few completely oblivious bystanders.

Barry drives, white knuckles gripping the wheel. Lup begins laying out the weapons she has on her person.

“Hey, Barold,” she asks, voice strained but light. “Know how to throw a knife?”

“No, I don’t know how to throw a fucking _knife!_ ” Barry shrieks. “I’m a scientist! What the fuck!”

“Well, take one anyway, here.” She clips a sheathed knife onto his belt loops. He starts muttering. She doesn’t catch much of it, but there’s a lot about “crazy” and “all gonna die” in there.

After an interminable few minutes, Barry pulls up in front of the Wonderland Enterprises building, a tower of gleaming glass and steel. Lup pauses, hand on her seatbelt.

“Okay. We’re going to act like nothing’s wrong, we’re just there to see Lydia - Ms. Chiville, her secretary knows me and should let us up no problem. Once we’re into an elevator, we’re golden. Her upper floor security is some of the best I’ve seen, we’ll be able to rest there, and I can explain to you and her what’s going on. Okay?”

“Well I don’t exactly have other options,” Barry jokes, tense. “I’d really like to know what’s going on?”

“I’ll tell you as soon as we’re up there. Okay, time to go!”

Lup steps out of the car, Barry meeting her around the side. Impulsively, she grabs his hand.

“We can’t get separated,” she says, flushing.

Barry smiles, still terrified but something else there too. Together, they walk toward the sliding glass doors. 

Lup lets Barry lead the way as they enter the bizarrely huge lobby. She’s scanning the area - first making sure they weren’t followed, then checking for exits, the assessing the people and furniture. Three exits, a large fish tank, scattered sofas with people reading newspapers. They’re halfway to the receptionist now. Large windows could be an additional exit if needed, coffee tables are a tripping hazard, two businessmen are arguing in the corner. Almost there. The receptionist in her perfect makeup and artificial smile, a computer on her desk, a man in a rainbow bowtie behind her- 

“FUCK!” Lup shrieks, shoving Barry down roughly behind a sofa. “CHANGE OF PLANS!”

Above them, Jenkins opens fire. 

Screams break out around the lobby, glass shattering and raining down upon the crowd. Barry is wide eyed and stunned, and Lup isn’t much better. Damn it, damn it, _damn it_. How the fuck did Jenkins get here?

It doesn’t matter. She knows what she has to do.

“Barry!” she says intently, voice barely audible over the screams. “When I say go, I need you to run to the left, go out that window, and get in the car. You have to get out of here, okay?”

Barry’s shaking, but just as focused. “I can’t just leave you!” he exclaims.

Lup smiles sadly. “Don’t worry, I know what I’m doing. Just let me do my job.” She closes her eyes for a moment, then snaps them open. “Three, two, one, NOW!”

Barry moves, and Lup just hope he’s following her directions. She can’t watch, because she’s diving to the right, behind the pedestal supporting an immense fish tank, and opening fire on Jenkins. The lanky man was clearly expecting this, as he ducks down behind the granite reception desk he’s stayed at, only darting out to shoot her. All her focus is on him, on that desk and this exchange of bullets, until there’s another, deeper shattering sound and water washes over Lup. And in that moment of confusion, she feels a sharp, searing pain.

Jenkins had shot out the glass of the fish tank, sending its contents onto the woman hiding behind it. And then, while she was distracted, he landed a hit. Lup’s sprawled on the floor, water mixed with a tinge of pink dripping off her stunned form. She can see Jenkins approaching, and she just needs a minute, damn it, and she can get up and get out. But he’s going to get here first. 

She hopes Barry got out.

Finally, slipping and stumbling from the water and pain, Lup scrambles to her feet, but it’s too late. She had dropped her gun, and Jenkins’ is pointed straight at her heart. 

“Oh, how the mighty have-” and he begins to monologue, but there’s a screeching sound, a shattering behind her and then a dull _thunk_. Jenkins stumbles back, clutching his head, as Barry Bluejeans yells from behind her, “GET IN!” 

She turns and runs to the car that Barry has just driven directly into the lobby, diving into the passenger’s seat as Barry floors it. On the dash in front of her is the empty sheath of the knife she gave him. 

Blaming it on loopiness from the pain and blood loss, Lup smiles and gleefully says, “You threw the knife!”

“Yeah, so turns out I don’t know how to throw a throwing knife properly, but I do know how to just chuck things real hard,” Barry says distractedly. “Think I hit him with the handle, but whatever, still counts.” He’s driving at a daredevil pace, cutting corners and running stop signs in a way that would make some of Lup’s smuggler friends proud. It also means that he doesn’t have a chance to look over to her until they’re on the freeway, at which point he gasps.

“Holy _shit_ Lup, you got shot!”

Lup looks down. “Yep, I sure did.” Blood is still flowing from a wound in her outer thigh, just below her hip. It’s a deep graze, and it’s going to hurt like hell once the shock wears off. But for now, she’s got to let shock and adrenaline carry her as far as they can. 

“Keep driving, we need to get as far away as possible by night. Good thing your car is so damn generic. You have anything I can use for pressure?”

“Uh, fuck, sure, here,” Barry says, twisting around in his seat. After a moment, he hands Lup his overshirt, a soft blue flannel. With a muttered thanks, she pushes it against the wound, hissing at the sudden pain. Yep, adrenaline is wearing off, though not so fast that she can’t blame it for the part of her brain focusing on Barry’s dad bod. 

“I’m gonna do my best to stay alert and awake, but I’m going to need food and better first aid materials before I can explain any of that adequately.” Also, maybe not the best to tell someone you were hired to kill them while you’re bleeding out in their car. She’s dreading that conversation.

Lup doesn’t know how far they drive that day. They pass through swathes of farmland, little two-block towns and clusters of outlet malls. They only stop for food, hats and sunglasses their meager disguises. The day drags on until the sun is long past set, and they can’t drive anymore. 

It’s quiet as they check into a seedy motel just off the highway. It has beds, and showers, and a sketchy convenience store next door that sells basic medical supplies, so it’ll do. 

 

They’re exhausted, and so they run on an autopilot as they individually scan the room, shower, and throw on some baggy flannel pajamas obtained from the same convenience store. Lup lays all her weapons out on the little desk, then perches on the bed closest to the door. If someone comes through the door, she has to be the first one they meet. But she’s so _tired_. And Barry’s looking at her, and she knows it’s time.

“Hey Lup?” Barry asks quietly. “What the fuck is going on?”

Lup slumps on the end of the bed, staring down at her knees. “I was hired by Lydia to protect you. I don’t know why. I didn’t need to know why. But someone out there wants you dead.”

“Yes, okay, we’d established that much,” Barry says, a little impatient. “But how did you know something was wrong this morning? How did you realize something was wrong in the office?”

She can’t look at him. “That man, the one in the lobby? He goes by the name Jenkins. He’s a pretty well known murderer and assassin, specializing in identity theft and flashy assassinations. He’s also been… a coworker of mine, you could say.”

Barry’s very, very still, and she can hear his breathing pick up. Lup feels made of glass. “Before I get to this next bit,” she says, shaky, “I need you to know I’m completely unarmed at the moment, and also physically not up to doing much. I also have no desire to hurt you. But, well…” she trails off, then starts laughing, pained and hysterical.

“Barry, there’s no good way for me to say this,” she says, strained. “Jenkins was there to kill both of us, as was a person outside your home this morning. You, because you were our target, and me, because I didn’t kill you like I was supposed to.”

Barry’s standing, back to a wall, eyes flicking around for any weapon, any way to defend himself. “You were going to kill me. This entire time, you had been _hired_ to kill me.”

“That about sums it up, yeah,” she sighs, not looking at him. “I’d say I’m sorry, but somehow I don’t think that would cut it.”

“You- it was all a lie. Everything was a lie.” His voice is terrified and very, very cold. “I’m leaving now.”

_Not all of it_ , she thinks desperately. But when she speaks her voice is flat, empty. “If you do that, you’re going to die.”

Barry laughs, high and hysterical. “Are you threatening me? Really?”

“Barry, no, I- no, I didn’t mean it like that.” Lup’s voice cracks. “I do not want you dead, that should be somewhat evident by now. But- whoever did, they’re not gonna stop.”

“I can run, I can hide I can go back to Lydia or go into witness protection or-” He’s rambling, he’s so scared, and she wants to reach out and comfort him and it tears her apart to know she can’t. She’s ruined anything they had. All she can do is continue to keep him alive.

“Barry, I know how my cohort operates. I’ve been part of this- fuck, we’re not an organization, we’re just a bunch of people frequently hired by the same employer. I don’t know what to call us, that’s not important.” Now she’s rambling, but she has to explain. He has to know. 

“When I even hinted I wouldn’t go through with this, they sent Jenkins and at least one other asset after us, some of their best. They risked attacking in a very public place, something that could expose them completely. My employer has invested an inordinate amount of money and risk into making you disappear. If you walk away right now, they will find you. I know them.”

Barry slumps down onto the bed. “Then what chance do I have? I’m- Lup- fuck, is your name even Lup?”

“Yes, it is,” Lup says quietly. “I really didn’t lie when I had the choice.”

“Lup,” Barry continues. “Say I believe you. Say that whoever wants me dead isn’t going to stop, is sending ‘some of their best --’” he makes disbelieving air quotes “-- after us. What can we even do? I can’t fight off someone like Jenkins, let alone more of them. And you may be good, but you’re one person, and also you got _shot!_ ”

“I may be one person, but don’t count me out just yet,” Lup says seriously but with a shark’s grin, ignoring the whole ‘bullet wound’ part. ”Jenkins is one of their best operatives. But I know the rankings our employer uses to assess our skills, and he’s only about third. The first one, the best of us? Is me. I know their secrets, I know their methods, I know safe houses and money caches and how to hide our trail from them. They want me dead, because I’m one of the only people who could take them down.”

“Fuck,” Barry says softly. “Okay. I’m not leaving, but if you do end up killing me I’m going to haunt the fuck out of you.”

Lup laughs, a little sadly. “That’s fair. Get some rest, it’s been a long day.” Lup lies back on her bed, staring at the ceiling until she drifts off. 

The next day, Barry’s hair is wild and his eyes have deep purple-grey bags. It’s clear he hasn’t slept a wink. 

When they get to the car, Lup tentatively reaches out and says, “I can drive, if-”

Barry snaps back. “Nope, you’re not driving. Directions, sure, but I need to be able to trust where we’re going.”

Lup shrinks back. She doesn’t talk for the rest of the day, except for short, blunt answers like “Turn left here” or “Room’s clear.” The night is quiet, too - Lup lies awake for hours, listening to the uneven breathing in the other bed and ignoring the pulsing fire in her leg.

Days pass like this, cold and quiet and tense. A series of roadside motels, fast food drive throughs and truck stops, all blurring from one to the next. But they can’t stop. Even though Lup is so tired, even though her leg is sending oozing fire through her nerves, even though Barry still probably hates her. They can’t stop, because Lup knows if they do, Barry will die. 

There’s flashes of something softer, warmer. Hands brushing when Barry passes Lup some extra bandages. Shoulders bumping as they putter around in whatever room they have that night. Realizing that they know each other’s orders by memory in the drizzling rain of a coffee chain’s drive through. There are moments where Lup thinks, _maybe_ … and then she pulls back. No, she can’t think of that now, not after she betrayed him.

But on the fourth day - fifth? Lup can’t remember - she trips, falling against the side of the car. She lets out an involuntary yelp of pain, vision swimming. Barry, who’d been distant but less cold recently, is at her side in an instant. 

“Lup? What happened- _oh holy fuck_ that’s blood,” Barry rambles, and Lup almost smiles at its familiarity.

“Yeah, my leg is kinda fucked still.” 

“Oh, that’s- that’s not good, has it been like this the whole time? Why didn’t you tell me, we could’ve stopped for more bandages and antiseptic and painkillers and- ”

“Not the prior’ty.” Is she slurring her speech? They world’s starting to look blurry, and Barry’s extremely worried face seems so far away. 

“Well it _sure should have been_ \- no, I’m not mad!” A wonderfully cool hand touches her forehead. “Lup, you’re really sick!” 

“Thought you were supposed to be a genius or somethin’, genius,” Lup smiles. “Coulda told you that one.”

“Why _didn’t_ you!” Barry’s getting a bit hysterical, he seems so stressed and upset. Lup feels bad on a distant level. 

“Didn’ wanna bother you… you were mad, which like, fair, I fucked up, just needed to keep you ‘live so you could leave and get back to a normal life. You hate me, didn’ wanna guilt trip you.” 

“Fuck, okay, we are going to _talk_ about that after this, but for now let’s get to a- god damn it, we’re on the run, we can’t get to a hospital, _fuck!_ ” 

“Barry… I’m gonna need you to drive,” Lup slurs out. She’s so tired. “Here’s ‘n address. Go fast.” She hands him her phone, an address punched in.

“Okay, Lup, stay with me here! C’mon, please stay awake, we’ll be there soon, just a couple hours, I just need you to stay with me!” Barry sounds strangely distant. 

“...’m tired.”

“I know, sweetheart, I know, but you gotta try to stay awake, okay? Just keep talking, okay? About anything, or I can ask questions. Like, okay, actually this one is really important, okay Lup? I need an answer to this.”

“M’kay.” It’s like she’s underwater, or down a long tunnel. The only thing keeping her present is the pain.

“Where are we going? What’s at this address, who is this?” Wow, Barry sounds really worried, that’s bad. Things must be bad.

With one last burst of energy, Lup gets out a full sentence. “We’re gonna go see my brother.”

And then her vision fades to gray and she knows no more.


	4. when combined these dinguses equal one responsible adult

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Multiple necessary conversations are had. Taako's cat ships blupjeans.

Lup comes to consciousness slowly, mind sleepy and fuzzed over. She hears a gentle twittering of birds outside, feels warm sunlight coming through a window, and somewhere in the distance a cat is yowling like it’s about to cough up a hairball. She smiles. She knows where she is. 

She opens her eyes, expecting to see just the soft cream walls of her brother’s guest bedroom. Instead, her brother-in-law, Kravitz, is standing above her with a stern and relieved look on his face. She smirks at him.

“Hey, bird bro, how’s it going?”

He puts his head in his hands. “Okay, the bird thing was one time, lay off. And it’s sure going better than two days ago!”

“Oh shit, two days?” Lup asks, alarmed. “That’s not great. “

“ _No,_ it’s not great, Lup!” Kravitz says, looking at the ceiling in exasperation. “What the fuck do you think happens when you get shot, dump a fucking _fish tank_ in the wound, and then don’t treat it for days? Infection! Infection happens!”

“Oh. Yeah, that would do it,” Lup says blankly. “You got me on antibiotics or something?”

Kravitz sighs. “Yeah, I had to borrow some IV stuff from the hospital. And do some minor surgery on your leg, so for the love of god do not get out of bed. If you pop your stitches I will explain, in technicolor detail, how I had to debride the wound.”

Lup winces. “Damn, okay. No getting up.” 

“Good,” Kravitz says, firmly. A smile creeps onto his face. “Now that we’ve established that you physically can’t run away, I think your brother has some things he’d like to say.”

The door slams open with a bang. “Yeah, that’s my cue,” Taako says, strolling into the room almost casually. “Hey, sis.”

“Hey, Taako,” Lup replies, with some trepidation.

It turns out to be warranted, as Taako’s voice screeches up about two octaves as he yells, “WHAT THE FUCK?!”

Kravitz quietly scoots out the door. 

“Before we get into this, could you get me some water?” Lup asks. “I’ve apparently been out for like two days and my throat is so damn dry.”

“Oh, right, yeah,” Taako says, and he leaves. Moments later, he returns with a tall glass of water, which he sets on the bedside table. He waits for her to take a sip and then says, “Okay, to reiterate, WHAT THE FUCK?!”

Lup sighs. “Yeah, you’re gonna need to be more specific. A lot’s been happening. Where should I start?”

“I mean, the man we’ve got locked in our living room would be a good start.”

Lup chokes on her water. “You locked Barry in the living room?!”

“Oh, he’s _Barry_ , is he?”

“How is that more important than _locked in your living room.”_

Kravitz pokes his head in the door. “He’s being overdramatic, Barry’s fine. He agreed to do that because he thinks it’s fair that we’re suspicious, and we only lock him in there at night when we’re not with him.”

“Look, a guy comes to our house carrying my _unconscious, horribly wounded sister_ , and you expect me to just trust him?” Taako asks. “Yeah, no, not happening.” 

Lup sighs. “Fine, okay, fuck. What has he told you?” She braces for the worst.

“Well, either this guy got you shot, or you got yourself shot because of him, and I’m _very_ interested in knowing which one.”

“I mean, I was hired to keep him safe-” She’s cut off.

“Yeah, I know that part. But you were also hired to kill him, and I want some answers as to why you didn’t.”

Lup feels like she’s been kicked in the chest. “He told you- you know- wait. Okay, wait. Fuck, why are you okay with that? Why aren’t you surprised?”

Taako looks at her, almost pitying. “Lulu, I’ve known you were an assassin since you started. This isn’t news.”

Everything’s cold. Lup feels like she’s falling, and her voice is small as she says, “You knew the whole time?”

Taako sighs and sits down next to her. “Yeah, I knew. I didn’t leave everything behind when I went straight - ha! - and narrow. I still know people, and they tell me things. I understand why you wanted to keep me out of it, but I was never really out to begin with.” 

“Oh. It’s not just - Taako, I’m not proud of what I’ve done. I didn’t want to drag you back into this, but, fuck, I’ve done some bad shit these past few years.” She can’t look at him. 

“I know. And I know why you did it, and I understand, and I’m sure as hell not going to judge you for it.” He reaches around to give her an awkward one-armed hug. “I really appreciate your intent, but you don’t have to be alone, okay? Next time please come to me and Krav before you’re on death’s door and some dude has to drag you here.”

She’s tearing up, and she thinks she can hear Taako sniffling a bit too. She hugs him back, hard. 

“Oof! Okay, okay, dial back the emotion like ten notches,” Taako says, but not with much force. “Now, back to denim boy?”

She sighs. “Okay, the denim thing is only kind of on him, we had to get clothes from gas stations and that’s really hit or miss.”

“The fact that he was alive to go gas station fashion shopping with you is completely on you though. What gives?” Taako asks, eyes curious.

“Look, I just couldn’t do it, okay?” she snaps. “I tried, I just. Didn’t want to this time.”

Taako examines her closely and then grins with devilish glee. “Ooooh, you _like_ him, don’t you?”

“What! I mean, sure, yeah, he’s a likable kind of guy,” Lup scrambles.

Her brother’s smile widens. “No, you _like_ -like him.”

“What are you, five?” Lup snaps. “No, I don’t!”

He turns serious. “Okay, but you risked your life and your entire reputation to save his life. There’s something there, Lup.”

“Fine, okay, so I do care about him,” she says, “but I am _not_ in love with him. He just - look, he’s nice and he has a story way too much like ours, minus the illegal shit.”

“Oh.” Taako’s quiet for a moment, thinking. “Also, you’re basically a secret agent, and he _definitely_ has the name of a James Bond movie love interest…”

Lup throws a pillow at him and Taako darts out of the room, laughing. 

A few hours pass quietly. Kravitz brings her some soup and some medicine, as she is apparently still on a hell of a lot of painkillers and antibiotics. She takes a nap. She eats more soup.

And there’s a gentle knock at the door, and Barry peeks in. “Uh, hey,” he says, looking very uncomfortable. “Can we talk?”

Lup tries to stay calm. “Yeah, come on in.”

He’s dragging a chair behind him, which he places next to her bed. For a moment, they sit in silence. Then-

“I need to say-”

“I should tell you-”

They both stop, flustered. Lup gives an awkward hand flap and says, “Sorry, you go first.” Barry takes a breath, and Lup braces herself. 

“I’m sorry.”

“Wait, what?” Lup asks, baffled. “Why are you- that’s what I was going to say! What reason do you have to be sorry?”

Barry looks down. “I was an ass. You saved my life, and I was such a dick about it. And because I was an ass, you didn’t tell me about your leg, and things got really, really scary there, Lup.”

Lup’s flabbergasted. “I mean - I was trying to kill you though! That’s a really bad thing to have sprung on you, that was totally valid!” 

Barry chuckles. “Yeah, but while you’ve been out, I’ve been doing the math. First you saved my life by deciding not to kill me. Then you did it again when Jenkins fucking happened, and then you saved my life who knows how many more times over the next few days by taking me on the run with you.” He looks at Lup, somber. “I owe you so much, and I was a dick.”

“Oh. Huh. Er, well,” Lup fumbles, “You probably saved my life by bringing me here, so knock at least one life debt off that list.” 

He mimes checking a box and they both chuckle a little. 

“Really, though,” Lup continues, “I’m so sorry. I fucked this one up pretty bad.”

“Nuh, uh, nope,” she continues, as Barry looks like he’s going to contradict her. “Let me apologize, damn it. I’m not going to apologize for the general assassin thing, I think we’ve squared that one away pretty well. Or at least well enough for me to not want to deal with that right now.”

Barry snorts. “Okay, that’s fair, we can table that.”

“I do want to apologize for not telling you all of the truth,” Lup says. “In the café… I didn’t ever lie. But I didn’t tell the truth, and I’d like to fix that, if you’ll let me.”

Barry’s quiet. “Sure, shoot.”

“I’m assuming that Taako, being Taako, told you absolutely nothing about me.”

He points finger guns at her. “Bingo!” She laughs. 

“I did tell you most of it,” she says. “Actually, I think about all of it, up until college? Wait, no, important context for that. So we didn’t have a lot of money growing up, right? It meant we didn’t live in a great neighborhood. So we were never involved in it as kids, but we sure were aware of the criminal side of things.”

She takes a breath. “So we knew how to get involved in it when our aunt got sick, we knew who to call. We needed money. Don’t get me wrong, my brother and I had a pretty strong moral code!” she rushes, intent on having Barry understand this. “We never got into anything fucked up, it was mostly forging documents and stealing cars and things like that. And honestly, we liked to think we were Robin Hood types - we tried to make sure that the only people we were hurting were the ones who could afford to get hurt.” 

“Yeah, I get that, don’t worry,” Barry says. “But. How did you go from that to- definitely not that?” 

Lup lets out a sad laugh. “Dropping out of college can, in fact, fuck your shit up. We had bills, and Taako had cooking skills but I didn’t have anything like that to fall back on. And not to get on a whole different kind of discussion, but the military is very good at making itself a great option for people in that position. So I joined, and I realized I hated it, and I left. But now I was still stuck with the same prior illicit skills, just with military experience on top. So I got into the more dangerous illegal stuff.”

“I’m sorry, Lup,” Barry says softly. “That must have been awful.”

“Yeah, it was,” Lup says bluntly. “For a while, I thought I could leave and do the legal bodyguard thing full time? But it’s just not a stable job, there’s so much time between contracts that I needed to do something else too. So, here we are.” 

Quietly, he repeats, “Here we are.”

There’s silence for a few resounding moments, but it’s broken by a loud yawn from Lup.

A little startled, she says, “Oh, gosh, sorry, I think I need a nap. My leg and the meds are really doing a number on me.” 

“I should get some rest, too, it’s been a long few days,” Barry says, getting up to leave.

“Gonna go crash on the couch?” Lup asks.

Barry pauses. “Well, uh, no, actually. Turns out that Taako’s cat is really territorial and likes the couch, and I’m allergic to cats, so I’ve been sleeping, well… on the floor next to the couch?” he says awkwardly.

Lup barks out a laugh. “For fuck’s sake.” She freezes for a moment, then in one quick motion throws back her blankets. “Get in.”

“What?” Barry seems so confused.

“Come on, I’m not going to let you sleep on the floor just because Taako and his cats are being dicks. We’ve been practically living out of each other’s pockets for days now anyway, this is fine,” Lup says quickly, trying not to blush. 

“Oh, uh, okay, yeah,” Barry says. “This is fine, sure, yeah okay.” But he does climb into the bed next to her.

For a few moments, they lay there stiffly, silently. Then Lup thinks, _fuck it_ , and says, “Hey Barry. Scoot over.”

“Sorry, I can leave if you want?”

“No, dingus, scoot the other way. I’m cold.” 

“Okay, yeah, that’s fine, I can do that!” Barry babbles. “Let me know if I hurt your leg, okay?”

He moves over until their sides touch, and Lup leans into him. He’s _very_ warm. It takes them both a few moments to relax, but as soon as they do, they drift off to sleep in a wave of comfort and safety. 

When Kravitz comes in to check on them an hour later, they’re curled up in a tangled ball, both faces more relaxed than he’s seen in the few days they’ve been here. He smiles and shuts the door quietly as he leaves. It may be Candlenights Eve, but they could use the rest. Taako will understand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This would be a good point to mention that the title is a lyric from the song License to Kill by Gladys Knight, the theme of the James Bond movie of the same name. 
> 
> also, really, don't google what debridement is. don't.


	5. the real villain was capitalism all along

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The identity of Barry's attackers is discovered, and Lup and Ren build a plan for action. Happy Candlenights!

Lup wakes with a start, realizing that the gentle sound of jingle bells was not, in fact, just a dream, or even that gentle. She stares out into the hall, where the bright glow of incandescent lights has been replaced by the gentle flicker of candles. In some sort of stunned horror, she rolls over to face Barry, who’s staring back at her just as horrified.

“It’s Candlenights.”

“It’s _Candlenights_.”

“Fuck yeah it’s Candlenights so get your festive asses in here!” shouts Taako from the kitchen. 

With no small amount of trepidation, Barry and Lup make their way out to the kitchen. It’s quite a sight to behold. Half the surfaces are covered in lit candles of all sizes and shapes, many giving off scents of cinnamon and other spices. The other half are covered in a wide variety of baking implements, Taako jumping around like mad from bowl to baking sheet. 

The jingling is coming from Kravitz. More specifically, from his horrendously ugly Candlenights sweater. 

“Well come on, get in here!” Kravitz says with a smile (and a jingle). “There’s no way in hell the two of us can eat everything Taako’s making.”

“Shut up, it’s tradition,” Taako grumbles, but he does take a break from his baking frenzy. 

Once seated around the table with an assortment of baked goods, Lup takes a breath. “Barry, if you’re comfortable with it, we need to know why Lydia hired a bodyguard for you. That’s our best starting point to figuring out who wants you dead.”

Barry grimaces. “Okay, sure, yeah. So, you know I’m a biomedical engineer, right?”

“Yup.” 

“Well, I was working on this new project,” Barry says. “Still in proof of concept, but it’s the thing I thought could be my big break. Basically, it’s an artificial pancreas.”

Across the table, Kravitz leans forward and says, “Oooh!”

“So for the people here who are not medical experts,” Barry continues, blushing, “the _very_ short version is that your pancreas creates insulin, which your body uses to process sugars. But if you have type 1 diabetes, your pancreas doesn’t do that. Which is bad, you need to be able to do that. So there’s a lot of ways to handle that, with injections of insulin and monitoring systems that act as an artificial pancreas.”

Lup is paying rapt attention, but Taako’s eyes have glazed over. 

“These aren’t new ideas, but most artificial pancreas systems are complicated, a hassle to deal with, and still really expensive. I created a prototype that - well, it isn’t. It’s small, easy to use, much more efficient and most importantly it’s really affordable to manufacture and maintain. It would revolutionize everything,” Barry says happily, gazing off into the distance.

“Okay, this is all really really cool,” Lup says, and she means it. “But how does Lydia come into this?”

“Oh! Yeah! Okay so the Chivilles, Lydia and her brother Edward, they’re the financial backers for my research. Wonderland Industries is a lot of things but they’re pretty big in the pharmaceutical industry. So they’re investing in me, because if this goes well they could buy the manufacturing rights.”

“Is that what you plan on doing?”

“Well, maybe? I want to repay the Chivilles, but I also kinda want to make the blueprints open source. Then companies could create cheaper generics and it really could save lives.”

He has a distant smile on his face, but Lup’s starting to get the ghost of a really horrible idea. “Hey Barry, is there anyone who wouldn’t want this fake pancreas to exist?”

“What? No, of course not! This is a huge breakthrough, it would change the lives of -”

“Barry, no,” Lup says with a sad smile. “Think like a heartless asshole, the sort of evil jackass who would put a hit out on a scientist. Who wouldn’t want this?”

Barry looks frustrated. “Well, okay, I guess other pharmaceutical companies. Diabetes treatment is a huge industry, companies make a lot of money off of it. So I guess they might not want a competitor taking that away from them.” 

Taako’s eyes are just as intent as Lup’s now. He sees where this is going. “Barold, if you were to kick the bucket right now, what would happen to your invention?”

“Er… that depends. It would probably go to the Chivilles? Technically it would probably go to my mom, but they could buy it from her pretty easily, and they have copies of all my research anyway.” Barry’s still not getting it, and Lup’s stomach feels like a rock.

“So. You created something that could revolutionize the pharmaceutical industry, which Lydia and Edward are deeply involved in. If you complete it, you could publish the schematics and while that would help millions of people, it would also cause every company making money off diabetes to lose billions of dollars. If you live, anyway. If you don’t, Wonderland gets your work and could either sell the new devices for however much they want, or choose not to use it at all and keep profiting from what they’re doing. You see where I’m going with this?” 

Barry’s eyes are wide. “Oh, fucking hell,” he whispers.

“Dingdingding! Our boy’s got it!” Taako says, before dropping his head onto the table. “Fuck!”

“Yeah, that’s a damn mood,” Kravitz says, staring at the ceiling. “Congrats, Barry. You scienced so good that your boss wants you dead.” 

“Okay, well, fucking hell, that explains some things,” Barry says, somewhat stunned. “But also, wait, what? Lydia hired Lup to protect me. I don’t- why would she protect me at all? None of this makes sense.”

“I have an idea, and it’s that the Chivilles are dramatic motherfuckers,” groans Taako, looking over at his sister. She has her head in her hands, and is that laughing or crying? Maybe both. 

She looks at Barry, eyes bleak. “Lydia hired me after my… _primary_ employer sent me out on the hit. They told me that they’d be setting up a way to get me access, and I assumed this was it. I mean, yeah, of course, why would you pay me to protect someone you wanted dead?”

“Well-” Kravitz starts counting on his fingers, and Lup glares. 

“That was rhetorical, Krav. Let me monologue.” She sighs. “If Lydia wanted you dead, I was useful for a few reasons. First, hiring a bodyguard shows that they are aware of a threat and are making an effort to deal with it. That gets rid of any potential of negligence on their part - if you were murdered for no clear reason and there was an investigation, suspicion might go to her for all the shit we just figured out, especially if there’s reason to believe the Chivilles knew there was a threat.” 

“Second, I’m very very good at what I do. I could have killed you, passed it off as an accident or mugging or even stage a fight-” her voice goes theatrical- “in which I _valiantly_ try to fight off your assailants but I’m taken out or wounded and they get past me. Again, focus is off them, because clearly they hired me and were trying to save you.”

“But all this is a little besides the point, because Lydia didn’t hire me.”

“What-”

“I thought you said-”

“Then who-”

“Damn it, let me be dramatic,” Lup snaps. “None of those explanations are very good, they’re a bit of a scramble. But they’re all better than me just killing you out of the blue, with no clear motive whatsoever. And yet, that was what I was initially hired to do.”

Taako is focused that Lup can imagine equations floating around his head. Barry and Kravitz look confused. 

“Now. Let’s talk about my employer, and what I know about him. Because he does a very good job of hiding his identity, but I’ve worked out a few things about him over the years. He’s a man, with a flair for the dramatic and a mean streak. He keeps odd hours - I’ve received calls from him at all times of day and night, including the middle of the workday when someone like Lydia would be in meetings or public spaces. He can be impulsive - he sent two agents after us, with extreme prejudice, at the merest _hint_ that I wouldn’t do the job. Someone with that would make the snap decision to have a potential problem killed, without fully thinking through the consequences.”

“So, Barry, one last question: What is Edward Chiville’s role in Wonderland Enterprises?”

“Uggggh,” Barry groans, running his hands through his hair. “He runs the behind the scenes half of things and _how_ am I just _now_ realizing that sounds like a euphemism for illegal bullshit? Lydia’s the public face, she’s in all the meetings and press briefings and behind the nice shiny desk. I’ve only met Edward once, nobody really knows where he is all day or exactly what he does but we just assumed it was all classified stuff _god damn it._ ” 

“I mean, to be fair, most heads of international corporations are not also running assassination rings,” Kravitz says pragmatically. “That just sounds like a conspiracy theory.”

“So you’re saying Lydia hired you as a bodyguard for Barry as some kind of scrambling attempt to cover her brother’s murdery tracks?” Taako asks.

Lup nods shortly. “Yup.”

Taako claps slowly. “Damn, Lulu, nice detective work. So now that shit’s all fucked, how are we going to un-fuck it?”

Lup smiles in a shark’s grin. “Oh, don’t worry. I have a plan.”

Two hours later, the Candlenights decorations have been cleared from the table and replaced by a number of phones, tablets, and computers. Faces stare out from every screen and Lup does her best to calm her nerves. She’s an assassin, that doesn’t lend itself well to public speaking roles. Still, she does her best.

“Thank you everyone for being here, I know it was absurdly short notice and on Candlenights, too,” she apologizes. 

A grainy face laughs at her from one of the tablets. “C’mon, no need to apologize. Candlenights is for family, and what kind of sorry excuse for family would we be if we let you all go on a crazy death wish mission alone?” Sloane asks, eyes bright and one arm wrapped around her wife, Hurley.

“Do you mean that in the crime family sense or the more normal sense?” Carey asks, curiously peeking out from the laptop.

“Er, kind of both, I guess?” Hurley says, thinking. “I mean, sure, Lup worked with Sloane for quite some time, but she was also maid of honor at our wedding? So yeah, both.”

“Well, thank you anyway,” Lup says. “This means a lot.”

Collecting her thoughts, she surveys the crowd before her. Lup, Barry, Taako and Kravitz had spent the previous two hours reaching out to anyone they thought they could trust and who had the skills to help. The results before her make her struggle to hold back a grin.

Lup had contacted Sloane, one of her good friends and, importantly, the only person who had successfully gotten out of a contract with Edward before. She left the assassin business when Hurley proposed to her, unwilling to continue to hide that part of her life from the woman she loved. Hurley took it quite well, considering that she’s a police officer. The two now stay mostly within the law, though Lup has her suspicions about the overnight explosion of Goldcliff’s street racing scene. 

Taako and Kravitz brought in Julia and Magnus Waxman-Burnsides, former politicians. At the age of 26 Julia was elected mayor of the town of Raven’s Roost, unseating a corrupt and despotic man who’d held onto the seat through bribery, intimidation, and rigged elections. Though now retired, having stepped down to allow for the continuation of fair elections, Julia and Magnus are not forces to be trifled with. Eight years of dodging assassinations, unraveling Kalen’s stranglehold on the town, and rebuilding from the ground up has made the Waxman-Burnsides brilliant strategists who are more than capable of holding their own in a fight. 

Two more individuals in their corner are Magnus’s adopted sister Lucretia Burnsides and Kravitz’s former mentor Merle Highchurch. Though Lucretia could not attend the meeting, Merle’s face shines out of a smartphone, much too close to his camera. Merle was one of Kravitz’s instructors in med school, who tended to value the Hippocratic oath over pettier things like laws. In his off time, he ran a clinic in east Goldcliff treating anyone who needed help and couldn’t go to a hospital, whether it was for lack of money or for fear of arrest. And he passed some of those chaotic good morals onto Kravitz. 

But perhaps most important of all is Ren, staring out serenely from a laptop beside Lup. Lup had called her as soon as they could, though Barry was confused as to how a kind small business owner could help. But Ren didn’t bat an eyelash at Lup’s hurried explanation, at least once Barry had appeared to prove that he was not kidnapped or dead. 

Lup still doesn’t know what Ren does, or what her previous name was. But after watching Ren immediately pull together Carey and Killian Fangbattle, her cousin Avi, and her friend and supplier (and maybe girlfriend?) Noelle for this project, as well as a much better plan than Lup and Taako had made? Yeah, she’s okay with letting the woman keep some secrets. 

And so it’s with that that Lup smiles and gestures to Ren’s tablet, saying, “You’ve all been briefed individually as to what’s going on-” and hadn’t _that_ been fun- “so now I’d like to hand you over to our general for the day. Ren, if you will?”

“Thanks, Lup,” Ren says, eyes sharp. For such a small woman, she projects a remarkable amount of gravitas. “We have two objectives, both interconnected. First, we need to get Barry’s research back. From what we know, it’s likely that it’s being held in a specific branch office of Wonderland Enterprises located just outside of Phandalin. Two factors are going to make this complicated. Our biggest obstacle is that it’s not all digital, we can’t just hack them and be done with it. We need to retrieve multiple physical folders and design models. And we’re going to have company.”

Lup jumps in. “Any office like this is going to have basic security, but the Chivilles must know we’re coming. They won’t want to destroy the designs, not when they can still profit off of them, so instead we can expect them to be under guard by people like me. Jenkins almost certainly will be there, maybe the Hammerheads… Sloane and I can give you a list of who to expect. They’re going to make this interesting for us.”

“Objective one will take place in three days,” Ren says. “That gives us some time to organize, to obtain necessary supplies, and get everyone who needs to be there to Phandalin. Once we’re there, we’re storming the castle.” Ren grins, sharp and angry. “We’re going to show them why you don’t mess with our friends.”

“We’ll be broken into four teams overall. Team A - or honestly, fuck it, you can pick your own name - will be Carey, Avi, and Taako.”

Lup closes her eyes for just a second. She hopes no one notices her tense up. 

Ren continues. “You’re our infiltration squad. Avi, Taako - you’ll do your best to blend in, to find the research by pretending you’re supposed to be there. Carey - sorry, I don’t think you’d exactly blend into an office setting-”

Carey brushes her electric blue mohawk with one hand. “Not offended, boss.”

Ren smiles. “You get to spy the fun way. You’re going into the vents.”

“Fuck yeah!”

“Your job is just to find the research,” Ren says, voice going serious. “None of you are fighters, not on the caliber of the people you’ll be facing. _Only_ retrieve the research if you know it’s completely clear. Otherwise, wait for Team B.”

“That’s my cue!” Lup says, smiling through her anxiety. “Team B is me, Julia, Magnus, and Sloane. We’re going to be physically storming the place to get the research back, or to cover for Team A as they get it and get out. Oh, and we’ll be playing on hard mode - non-lethal weapons and tactics.”

At a few groans, Lup says, “Yeah, I know, but trust me. We have a reason, besides the whole ‘be the better man’ aspect.”

“So, Team- Team C,” Barry says, voice cracking. “That’s me, Kravitz, Merle, and Killian. We’re on-site support. I’m going to be on comms, since I know this office and some of the people in it. Merle and Kravitz are emergency medics, and are hopefully just a precaution. Killian, also hopefully as a precaution, will be guarding us. We’ll be in a van or something nearby the office.” 

Ren smiles. “That leaves me, Noelle, Hurley, and Lucretia as Team D. We’ll be taking care of objective two, and on that note, we should leave y’all so we can start on that immediately. I’ll be in touch, see you all in person in three days!” 

Four faces blink off of the many screens. Following their lead, the rest say their goodbyes, promising to get in touch with their individual teams or one on one. Finally, just four individuals sit in a kitchen, silently facing blank, black screens.

Kravitz is still in his Candlenights sweater. Lup swallows down her emotions and silently leaves, to take solace in the guest bedroom and not scream in anxiety. 

But after a few scant minutes, there’s a knock on the door. She sighs. “Come in.”

It’s Barry, because of course it’s Barry, and he looks anxious and frantic and remarkably determined. “Lup, I need to talk to you.” 

She steels herself. “You’re not going in with me.”

“What? No! I can’t - let me help!” Barry objects vehemently, eyes tight.

“Look, Barry, I have guns, knives, I am a walking armory and I know how to use them all. I’m going to be backed up by three other people with the same skills. I know you’re smart, you’re talented and clever and competent, but this is our wheelhouse. I know exactly what I’m getting into, and I know how to win this.” 

“I don’t- I’m not doubting your ability!” Barry says, frantic. “I just- I can’t sit on the sidelines while you put yourself in danger for me! I should be with you, this is my problem, I can’t let you get - get hurt, while I sit out!”

“Barry, _please,_ ” Lup says, pleading. “Just let me protect you.”

Barry looks almost angry at that. “This isn’t your job anymore! I know that you - you were being paid to keep me safe, and I get that, but you don’t have to anymore! We-”

He’s cut off by Lup, who pulls him in for a desperate kiss. When she pulls back, Barry’s eyes are wide and he seems almost stunned. Still close, she gives him a quick, sad smile.

Almost whispering, she says, “I’m not doing this because it’s my job.”

Barry stares back, eyes wide. After a moment, he whispers, “Oh.”

She pulls him in for a hug, squeezing tight. He hugs back, and she knows he can feel her shaking, can feel her tears seeping into his shirtsleeve. But she doesn’t let go. And he doesn’t let go.

They stay there for what could be seconds, minutes, hours. The world stops spinning, or turns too fast, all on an axis around a little room in a little house in a little town.

But eventually, Lup pulls away.

“We should get some sleep,” she says, voice hoarse with tears. “We have a long few days ahead.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I am not a medical professional, nor am I diabetic, but I do have multiple chronic illnesses and a lot of rage. Also, kudos to anyone who noticed that ‘Chiville’ is an anagram of ‘evil lich.’


	6. shit goes to hell 2: electric boogaloo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The assault on Wonderland begins.

The next two days pass in a blur. Barry, Lup, Kravitz, and Taako all pile into Barry’s car for the drive back to Phandalin. Thankfully, when you’re not trying to escape assassins, the drive only takes about a day - which in Lup’s opinion is still too long to be stuck in a car with your obnoxious brother and brand new potential romantic partner. The less said about that, the better. 

They regroup in Carey and Killian’s apartment, taking over every inch of floor space with sleeping bags and weaponry. Somehow, Ren’s maybe-girlfriend Noelle has managed to scrounge up what must be thousands of dollars worth of high quality weapons and body armor. Lup’s pretty sure Noelle runs a family owned cider company, so there are a lot of potential questions there, but that’s a problem for later. 

They spend sleepless hours going over the plan, poring over building layouts that have been taped to the Fangbattle’s kitchen table. They work out dozens of backups and contingencies until Lup’s eyes are burning and scrawled notes litter the kitchen floor. Eventually, they’re as ready as they can be. 

The night before the assault on the Wonderland offices, Taako pulls Lup aside. He’s nervous, maybe more so than she’s ever seen him before. But she can’t judge - she’s sure his own worry is reflected on her face. 

“Lup, listen,” he says, face drawn. “You realize what’s going to happen tomorrow, right?”

Lup lets out a short laugh. “Yeah, I do. We’re going to take on some of the most dangerous people I know. I’m sending my friends, my family, into a war that they shouldn’t be in, into the path of people like- like me, but worse. I don’t think I could forget that, Taako.”

Taako scrubs his hand across his face. “Fuck, yes, okay, that too. But I’m talking about after. Sure, fine, a lot could go wrong tomorrow. But if it goes right - Lup, you know how this is gonna end. If Ren’s team does their job? You’re going to go down with them.”

Lup’s quiet for a moment. She’s thinking, remembering - what she’s done, who she’s become. Why she chose this path, who she chose it for. And why she’s choosing to get out.

“It’s worth it,” she says, firmly and almost managing to hide the shake in her voice. “I know what’s going to happen, and it’s worth it to take these fuckers down for good.”

Taako looks at her, not judging, just looking. And then he pulls her in for a hug, Lup letting out an _oof_ as he squeezes like he’ll never see her again. 

Lup tries not to dwell on that thought.

Taako’s voice is also wavering a bit as he pulls back from the hug. “I’m going to be fine tomorrow. You’re also going to be fine. We’ve made this work since we were kids, and I’ll be damned if some dicks with a cheap knockoff version of my voice are going to split us up,” he bites out, eyes fierce.

Lup smiles, or snarls, it’s hard to tell, as she shoves down her anxieties. “Hell yeah, let’s light them the fuck up.”

It’s quiet the next morning. Earpieces are handed out, weapons and supplies counted one last time, and a few quick hugs are exchanged before the groups split up. Lup’s group, Team B - affectionately nicknamed “Team Badass” by Hurley - and Barry’s Team C have been split into two vans that Ren was able to wrangle up from somewhere. Despite brandishing logos for catering and repair companies, it’s not the most subtle disguise, but that doesn’t matter. If either team has to get involved, all subtlety is already out the window. Even so, when they arrive at the Wonderland offices, they park one lot over, behind some trees.

It’s almost impossible to imagine what’s about to happen here. These branch offices are so incredibly neutral looking, just one more dreary grey building surrounded by dozens of others. A sea of parking lots and blank lawns add to the emptiness of the space. Lup knows all of these offices are probably bright and bustling from the inside, but for now they just feel lonely, gleaming walls of darkened glass gazing emptily out at the world. 

But it’s not lonely for long. As two teams wait, the parking lot begins to come alive with employees arriving for work, all bright smiles and steaming coffee. This is their cue.

Lup, as unofficial leader of this operation, begins. “Testing, testing, we are a go. Team B, sound off.” 

The resulting murmurs, coming from both her earpiece and the car around her, are a bit disorienting, but she pushes through. “Team C, sound off.”

There’s a bit less radio discipline from this one. “Here and ready to party!” Merle chirps and Lup has to stifle a groan.

“We’re all here,” Barry says, clearly trying not to laugh at Lup’s annoyance. Lup finds she doesn’t mind, though.

“Okay, support teams are ready. Avi, Taako, move in. Carey, you too.”

“Here we go, let’s fuck up some shit!” Taako whispers dramatically, and Avi lets out a little cheer. Lup almost doesn’t recognize Taako as he steps out of a little unassuming sedan. For a man who usually looks like a thrift store explosion, he looks comfortable as anything in business attire. He even manages to make his chin-length dyed blonde hair look like the peak of professionalism, accented nicely against a blue button-down. He looks… responsible.

Lup hates it. So does Taako, apparently, because as he walks toward the door he mutters, “I swear to god if you make me wear slacks to any other secret mission I’m disowning every one of you.” 

“Hey, excuse you, those slacks make you look great, are you insulting my fashion sense?” Kravitz asks, mock-offended.

“Maybe we shouldn’t be flirting over the comms?” Barry asks tentatively. “We have a job to do.”

“Okay, fine, but I hope you know that goes for you as well,” Kravitz snipes back. 

Lup clears her throat, glad no one can see her blushing. “Avi, what’s your status?” 

“On my way in, just gotta get past security,” Avi says. “Taako, you ready?”

“Hell yeah, my man, let’s go.”

Lup watches as the two men enter the building and approach security. It was decided that the two would have different covers - Taako, as an adult with all the confidence years of grifting provides, is just going to act like he belongs. Avi is playing to different strengths. 

Lup tries not to laugh as she hears Avi’s voice over the comms. “Uh, hi, er, I’m the new intern? It’s my first day, I am in the right place, right? Oh, sorry, my name is Greg, Greg Grimaldis. I go to University of Phandalin? I’m here to work with the accounting department, there was this posting at school and- Oh, shoot, I’m not on the list yet? Oh, no, er, I can call my supervisor, Susan? Maybe she can-”

The entire van is holding back snickers as they listen to Avi very politely continue to annoy the hell out of the security desk. Taako gives a little whistle, the signal that he’s used Avi’s distraction to get in, and Lup can hear the smile in Avi’s voice. “Actually, you know what, a guest badge would be wonderful, I wouldn’t want to be late on my first day! Thank you so much!”

“Nice job, Avi,” Lup says, smiling. “You good, Carey?”

Carey begins humming a tune, and Killian bursts out laughing. It takes Lup a moment to realize it’s the Mission Impossible theme, and she sighs. “I’m going to take that as a yes.” 

“I’m in the vents of an evil organization, let me have some fun with this!” she whispers back. “I’m on the way to what I think is the main storage room, I’ll tell you when I get there.”

“Sounds good,” Lup replies. “Alright, you three do your things.”

For about an hour, the two vans wait with bated breath. Well, most of them - Lup’s pretty sure Merle is playing games on his phone. Lup’s focused, trying to understand the tangle of two half-conversations twisted together.

“Sorry, can you give me directions to-”

“Mondays, am I right-”

“Oh, happy birthday! Sorry, I didn’t-”

“Can you get me the files from-”

“Whoops, I think the printer’s-”

“Oh, hey, I’m just on my way to- _AGH!_ ”

Someone in the van sucks in an anxious breath and Lup can feel her focus sharpen in terror. “Taako, come in. Lup to Taako, what was that?”

There’s no answer.

“Taako, make a sound if you can hear me.” 

Nothing. 

“Avi, Carey, do you have eyes on Taako?”

“No, I’m stuck in a fucking boardroom,” Avi hisses. “Fuck!”

“No, I don’t, but I can try,” Carey mutters, trying to keep her tone even. “I’m almost at the storage room, I can go and-”

And then there’s a crunch and an electrical screech over the comms. Lup can’t breathe. 

“Mayday, mayday, fuck, everyone prepare for plan B,” she says, horrified yet somehow distant. “That was- someone just crushed Taako’s earbud.”

There are gasps and muffled swearing over the comms, but Lup can’t stop, can’t think about it. “Carey, Avi, we need to get you the fuck out of there.”

“I can maybe-” Carey begins to protest, but Lup cuts her off.

“No, Carey, _do not_ go after the plans. They- they have Taako.” Her voice breaks, but she pushes on. “I don’t- he’s not going to tell them anything but it doesn’t matter, they already know we’re here. You need to get _out of there_.” 

“Okay,” Carey says, after a long pause. “How?”

Lup takes a breath. “We can’t- we can’t just go after Taako, we need to get him and the designs at the same time or we’ve failed. So we have to continue like we would have. Kravitz, Merle, start preparing for- for at least one injured.” 

“Copy,” Merle says after a pause. “We’re half set up already, and Barry’s a good extra set of hands.”

Lup can’t think about how Kravitz is doing right now, she can’t let herself. “Team B, start suiting up to go in. Carey, can you get in a position where you can get out of the vents fast?”

“On my way to an exit now,” she says, breathless, “but there are going to be some questions asked if they see me falling out of the ceiling.”

“Don’t worry, I’ve got a cover for you,” Lup says, mind racing. “Avi, I need you to very casually get out of where you are and pull a fire alarm. Give us a countdown first so Carey knows when to go.”

“That’ll lose us any surprise we have left,” Sloane mutters behind Lup. Magnus punches her on the shoulder, and she stares. “What was _that_ for?”

“Surprise doesn’t matter at this point,” Magnus states flatly. “What does is getting the civilians out safe.” 

Sloane scrunches up her face and shakes her head. “Sorry, old habits,” she says, genuine. “Yeah, that comes first.” 

The next few minutes are quiet as Lup, Sloane, Magnus, and Julia prepare to rush in. They had hoped for this to be easy, for them to sneak in and hit hard and fast. That’s not an option anymore. So on goes body armor, and they carefully inch the doors of the van open.

They wait for a few moments, until they hear Avi’s whispered “Okay, here we go - one, two, _three_!” 

Chaos ensues. The screech of a fire alarm echoes out from the office, so loud that even those in the vans have to cover their ears. Within moments, employees come streaming out of the building, talking and crowding and craning their heads to see any smoke rising from the roof. 

“I’m out the back,” Carey mutters over the coms. “I’m clear, making my way to Barry’s van now.”

“Same here,” Avi says. “Might be stuck for a hot second, they’re directing the crowd away from where you are.”

It’s true - someone, Lup can’t see who, is using a bullhorn to shepherd the baffled employees out and around the side of the building. Lup has a moment to think, _oh good, they’re clearing the way_ before she stops dead.

“Fuck, get ready everyone,” she hisses. “They’re clearing out any witnesses, this is too convenient. Something’s about to happen.”

There’s a moment’s pause, then two, as voices trail away around the side of the building. And then the door creaks open, and Lup can’t stifle a gasp. 

Taako is dragged out of the office, hunched forward and feet scraping the floor. His hair hangs limp around his face, matted with blood in one spot, as he looks around with a dazed expression. Over the comms, Lup can hear Kravitz’s frantic muttering of “head injury, probable concussion, favoring his right side, maybe cracked ribs…” but she tunes it out. This is how Kravitz deals with pressure, and she’s not going to get in the way of that. He needs to be ready for when they bring Taako back.

Assessing the situation, Lup knows she can’t expect Taako to get himself out. He’s hardly being restrained, but his full weight seems to be supported by his captor. In fact, it doesn’t seem like Taako can stand on his own at the moment, let alone fight or run. He still hasn’t managed to focus on his sister or any of his family, and with the blaring fire alarm further disorienting him she can’t even be sure he knows what’s happening. 

Also, there’s the matter of the gun being held to his head. 

Furious and terrified, Lup manages to shift her gaze to pierce the man holding her brother hostage, someone she had hoped she’d never see again. He smiles.

“Oh hello, _darling!_ ” Magic Brian calls out. “I think we’d like to propose a _trade!_ ”


	7. chaotic good vs neutral evil: fight!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The liches may have the upper hand, but Lup's not going to let them take anyone she loves. No matter what the cost may be.

Lup hears someone _hiss,_ sharp and crackly, from her earpiece. It’s probably Carey, and damn if Lup doesn’t feel like hissing too. 

They have her brother.

They have Taako, and it’s her fault. 

She can’t breathe.

And then, behind her, Magnus yells, “Kiss my ass, you spidery fuck!” 

“Well, that’s just rude,” Brian drawls. “You haven’t even heard the terms of our deal yet!” 

“We don’t need your fucking-” Julia starts, and Lup puts up a hand.

A core of iron keeping her voice from shaking, she calls, “State your _goddamned_ terms.” 

Brian grins, wide and carefree as if he’s not currently holding a half-conscious man hostage. “Well, I clearly have something you want… and _you_ have something we want! Two somethings, in fact,” he says, glancing between the vans. 

Thinking fast, Lup mutters, “Carey, Killian, Merle - _keep Kravitz and Barry inside the van._ ”

“Got it, boss,” Killian says, with only a slight waver. Lup can hear vehement protesting from Barry and Kravitz, but she can’t let that stop her. 

She leans out of the van, tone light as she calls to Brian, “Well, that just doesn’t seem fair. One for one, or not at all.”

The protesting rises in volume. Shadowed by the van, Julia places a steady hand on Lup’s shoulder.

“I don’t really think you’re in a position to bargain, dear!” Brian says, and a shot rings out, glancing off the pavement in front of the van. From his position on the office rooftop, Jenkins gives a jaunty wave. 

Undeterred, Lup smiles a shark’s grin. “Oh, but I think we are, _dear_ ,” she snarls. “You’re good, I grant you that. You have a half-dozen slimy fucks who traded their ethics for money. But I could take down any one of you, and I’m not alone. Sloane, your turn!” she sings out, and two of the office’s windows shatter, one on either side of Brian. 

Lup’s gaze hardens. “You’re not getting Bluejeans, period. And you’re not getting me if I don’t want you to. Sure, maybe I would lose that fight, or you could just shoot me now - but between the what, ten of us? A good chunk of you are going down with me.”

Lup steps out of the van. “There’s one way you get out of this alive, and that’s letting him go, and taking me instead.” 

She can’t tune out the broken scream of “LUP! NO!” coming from her earpiece. Hand shaking just slightly, she takes it out and turns back to the van. Sloane’s up on the van’s roof, but Magnus and Julia stare solemnly back at her.

“Take care of my brother, okay? And- and keep Barry safe?”

“Of course,” Magnus whispers back. Julia just nods and takes Lup’s earpiece. 

There’s two knocks on the roof of the van, and Sloane quietly says, “I know the plan, but I also know you, Lup. I am not above knocking you out right now and taking our chances.”

“And risk disappointing your wife?” Lup jokes, but her voice softens. “There’s too much at stake, Rey,” she says, nostalgia pulling out a nickname she hasn’t used in years. “Let me do this.”

There’s a moment of silence, then one knock on the roof in confirmation. Lup turns back to face Brian, and her brother.

“Now that your little touching moment is over, I think we have a deal!” Brian says, looking antsy. “Come quietly and I’ll let him go.” 

Lup steps out into no man’s land, a part of her thankful that Taako is probably too out of it to know what’s happening. There’s no way in hell he’d let her do this. But she doesn’t think of that, can’t even look at him, in the interminable few moments it takes her to cross a parking lot.

It’s too mundane, to the point of being surreal. Lup steps over painted lines of parking spaces, over a concrete curb, and imagines them as trenches, as lines in the sand, as unbreachable barriers. But they’re not. They’re just asphalt and soon not even they stand between her and Brian.

She stares at him levelly, watching him repress the urge to stand up straighter. Magic - oh, god, she remembers when he picked the name, the flashy idiot - Brian may be taller than she is, but she’s always been better at intimidation, at a certain presence, and she’s not holding back. 

“Well,” Brian says, flustered, “Weapons down, where I can see them!” 

Slowly, excessively telegraphing every move, Lup drops guns, knives, a garotte, at her feet. Then she stares impassively back at Brian.

“Well? Is this a trade or what?” she asks, feigning indifference, annoyance, anything that will distract her from screaming at being so close to her brother and yet so far. 

“Hands out!” Brian snaps, and as she complies he releases Taako. The injured man falls to the floor with a groan, and Lup fights back a wince as Brian cuffs her hands in front of her. And they leave.

There’s shouting, running, all sorts of noises behind her as Brian quickly ushers her into the building. But she doesn’t look back. 

It’s a short walk through the deserted halls. After a few moments, Lup stands in an office, uncannily mirroring the events of just a few weeks prior. Lydia sits relaxed behind a wide oak desk, feet propped up amongst the scattered paperwork. Edward leans against the wall at her side, casually fiddling with a long bowie knife. Lup is not an angry woman, but the sight of them, so nonchalant and carefree, fills her with an unbridled rage.

“I should’ve fucking overthrown you when I had the chance,” she hisses at Edward. He laughs.

“Oh, please, as if you could.” 

“Really, Lup, my darling, you’ve gotten sloppy!” Lydia trills out. “It can’t be laziness, surely, not with your track record. Do you really care that little?”

Lydia’s eyes harden. “Or, rather, _did_ you care that little?”

Lup scoffs, choking down fear. “Uh, yeah, you know I do. Who becomes an assassin out of fucking altruism and love for humanity?”

Lydia grins. “Oh, love can inspire quite a few things, really,” she says almost pleasantly. “You know, like risking your life, abandoning your job, running across the country with a man you met two days ago…”

“What- you think that was love?” Lup laughs, feigning confidence. “No, that was me finally growing a fucking spine and some morals. Unlike you - seriously, is there anything more skeevy and pathetic than profiting off the chronically ill?”

“It’s a living!” Edward sings out. “Really, you’re not one to judge us for doing what we have to do.”

“And Lup?” Lydia asks sweetly, and then makes a harsh gesture to Brian. He pulls her across the room, to a chair in front of the desk. She’s pushed down into it, and as Brian clips her handcuffs to its back Lydia leans forward slowly. 

“Don’t try and lie to us. Believe me, we’ll know.”

Now face to face, Lup glares daggers at the woman before her. “Fine, then you tell me one thing,” she snaps. “Why the hell am I not dead yet?”

“Oh, well that would be such a waste!” Lydia laughs. “Why, we’re not done with you quite yet. Actually, we have a proposition! A choice, if you will.”

“Get on with it.”

“Well, there’s a few options really,” Edward drawls. “First, you tell us what we want to know about your dear Barry, about Sloane, about what little secrets of ours you have squirreled away. And then we kill you.”

“Thanks, I’ll pass.”

“Yes, we thought you might,” Edward says almost kindly. “Option two - well, we can’t exactly just let you leave us, so you’ll have to remain a guest of ours until you can be convinced to tell us what you know.”

“And then you’ll kill me,” Lup states flatly.

“And then we’ll kill you!” Lydia smiles. “Of course, there’s always a third option.”

Lydia pauses for a moment, full of drama. Lup refuses to react, and something hardens behind Lydia’s eyes. 

“Option three,” she says softly, but full of venom, “is you come back to us.”

“Why the fuck would I do that,” Lup snaps. “I thought my terms of resignation were pretty clear, thanks.”

“Oh, but the rehire benefits are just too good to pass up!” Edward says, saccharinely sweet. “I mean, for one, you get to live.” 

“Oh, start with the worst one, why don’t you,” Lydia says, almost bored. “She turned herself in, that’s clearly not a priority. No, the real benefit here - your friends, your _family,_ get to live.”

Lup can’t breathe. “Excuse me?”

Lydia looks almost pitying. “Really, Lup, do you think we would just let you go with no repercussions? That’s not how this game is played. You’re good, I’ll grant you that. If you’d really tried, we never could have found you again.”

Edward cuts in. “But here’s where you fucked up, darling. You _care_.”

“You can run, but what about your dear new friend Barry?” Lydia asks. “You know, scientists spend so much time in laboratories, and there’s so many accidents that can happen. And you know, what with knives and stoves and all, quite a lot can go wrong in a kitchen, too. It really wouldn’t take much for Taako to slip up, accidentally mix up the baking soda and rat poison, and what a tragedy that would be! Leaving his poor husband a widower, and so young, too!”

Lup thinks she’s shaking. Whether it’s with fear or rage she isn’t sure.

Edward hops in. “Of course, terrible things can happen anywhere, really. An infection picked up in a hospital, or hell, even something as everyday as a car crash, and they’re both gone. Isn’t the road to their house just _so_ winding and steep? That can’t be safe in the winter.”

“You care too much, Lup,” Lydia says. “You care about Barry, and Taako, and Kravitz, and I daresay everyone waiting outside this building right now. And that’s your weakness. We can negotiate too, you know, so here’s our proposal: either you come back and work for us, and huzzah! Taako and Kravitz go home to adorable domesticity, Barry keeps doing his wonderfully good science, every one of your friends gets to continue their happy, normal lives.”

There’s something terrifyingly uncaring in Lydia’s face. “Or, you die a noble death, and they all die with you.”

“You’re no stranger to doing bad things to save good people, Lup,” Edward says. “Really, there’s only one way this ends well.”

Lup closes her eyes. She thinks of Barry, chatting with customers in the coffee shop. Taako and Kravitz, puttering around their home, fiddling with Candlenights decorations. The Fangbattles, who don’t eve belong in this world. The Waxman-Burnsides, with their careers ahead of them. She thinks of each and every friend she pulled into this, and she makes her choice.

But as she opens her mouth to speak, shots ring out in the parking lot. Edward and Lydia startle. 

“Oh, I hope your friends aren’t trying anything stupid,” Edward titters nervously, and Brian rushes out of the room.

Lup bares her teeth in a snarl. “You may have got my measure,” she grins, “but you ignored the biggest threat to your entire goddamn enterprise, and that’s Ren _fucking_ Mol’diira.”

A flicker of shock passes over the Chiville’s faces for a split second. There’s a horrible screeching noise outside, and Lup, still locked to the chair, dives as far as she can from the desk as the window beside her shatters.

Barry Bluejeans, her knight in denim armor, plows a catering van straight through the wall and into the ostentatious desk. Glass, wood, and evil assholes go flying, Lydia slamming into a wall as the van skids to a stop. 

As the dust settles and glass falls with angry chimes, Carey, Merle, and Killian barrel out of the van, bloodthirst in their eyes. But they’re not alone. From outside the building, Lup can hear the shrieking of sirens, and a very familiar voice shouting through a bullhorn that “THIS IS THE PHANDALIN PD, COME OUT WITH YOUR HANDS UP.”

She smiles as Merle rushes over to help her up, slipping the handcuffs off the now shattered chair. Her friends have come through for her. 

Ignoring the fighting behind her, Lup limps over to the van to be met by an anxious Kravitz, who pulls her into a tight hug. “Thank you, thank you, thanks you,” he whispers, nearly crying, “but don’t you _ever_ try that again!” 

“I’ll do my best,” she smiles weakly. “Is he okay?”

“He’s resting now,” Barry says, walking out to meet him. “We’re going to want to get him to a doctor- well, to a doctor with access to medical facilities - but nothing life threatening.”

Lup slumps a little in relief and beams up at Barry. He smiles back, looking exhausted but happy. 

“Hey, I stayed in the car!” he says brightly, and Lup can’t help but laugh.

“Yeah, you sure fucking did, huh?” she smiles. “Couldn’t even leave me one ass to kick.”

They stay there for a moment, sheltered from the chaos, but eventually Barry’s face falls as he glances out of the building. 

“Time to face the music, I guess,” he says, offering an arm out to Lup. “You ready?”

“As I’ll ever be,” she mutters nervously, but she slings an arm over his shoulder and walks out through the jagged window. 

Flashing lights blind her - the red and blue of police sirens, but also the brilliant white of cameras. There’s quite a crowd out there to meet them. Hurley seems to have brought half the police force with her, and officers are rushing into the building even as they walk out. Sloane, now in what is hopefully a borrowed and not stolen police officer’s outfit, is leaning against one of the cars. Through the barred window behind her Lup can see the yelling figures of both Jenkins and Brian.

Barry bustles Lup out of the way, toward Sloane, as officers walk out with the Chivilles in hand. Edward’s perfect hair is rumpled and full of glass, and Lydia is bleeding from a gash on her cheekbone. But they still hold their poise, are still arguing that they’re being unjustly arrested. 

That’s broken by an wave of reporters, with little, shy Lucretia Burnsides leading the charge. “Mr. and Ms. Chiville! Is it true that Wonderland Inc. is responsible for a number of violations of federal law and scientific ethics!?” she shouts, and the crowd quiets. 

Lydia stands straighter. “Why of course not!” she exclaims, indignant. “This is all a severe misunderstanding, Wonderland would never-”

“Oh, but Ms. Chiville!” Lucretia replies, grinning wide. “How do you explain the trail of evidence going back at least ten years, documenting amongst other things the theft of intellectual property from dozens of scientists, the intentional manipulation of international pharmaceutical markets, and, of course, the employing of contract killers and hitmen for the murders and attempted murders of a number of individuals, including one Barry J. Bluejeans?” 

Beside her, investigative reporting intern Angus McDonald holds up a stack of papers nearly as tall as he is, and the crowd goes wild. 

In the chaos, Hurley slips over to Sloane’s car. Seeing her, Lup sighs and slumps her shoulders. “Well, I’m already handcuffed,” she jokes weakly. 

Barry looks like he’s been punched. “No, Hurley, you can’t- she just- after all this, you can’t take her!”

Lup rests a hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay, Barold,” she says softly. “I knew this was coming, it’s okay. It’s worth it.”

“Whoa, okay, don’t act all doom and gloom over here,” Hurley says, looking worried. “You’re not like, dying or being locked away for life or anything.”

Lup’s honestly surprised. “I’m not?”

“No, Istus no!” Hurley says, shocked.

“Yeah, that’s not happening,” a voice says from behind them. Lup turns to see Ren, dressed in civilian clothes and yet somehow looking the most official of anyone. 

“Ren! Thank you- for all of this, but you can’t-” Lup starts, and Ren holds up a hand. 

“Look, I didn’t go to law school for nothing,” Ren says, and Barry looks blindsided. “But that’s a story for another time. This next bit is going to suck, I won’t lie,” she continues. “Yep, you’re getting arrested. That’s pretty inescapable. But you have a shit ton of allies, and if we’re good at one thing,” Ren says, eyes flashing, “it’s righting wrongs, in ways that are mostly within the bounds of legality.”

“Chaotic good motherfuckers for life!” Sloane calls out, but her eyes belie her anxiety. 

Hurley laughs. “I’m going to have to bring you down to the station in a few minutes,” she says kindly. “The civilians here will have to make statements too, but you’re going to be separated for a while. We’ll buy you some time to say your goodbyes, okay?”

“Thanks, Hurley,” Lup whispers, and she turns back to her friends. 

Kravitz is standing beside the van, a half-conscious Taako supported beside him. Lup knows she has tears in her eyes as she pulls them both in for a hug.

“If I didn’t have a concussion I’d be kicking your ass right now,” Taako says, words only slightly slurred. 

“Yeah, that’s fair,” Lup says, laughing through the tears that are now flowing freely. “I’m so sorry, I-”

“I’m gonna kick your ass if you apologize, too,” he adds, glaring. “Kravitz, kick her ass for me.”

“I’d really rather not,” Kravitz says, eyes sad. “Good luck, I guess.”

“Thanks,” she says faintly. “Yeah.”

The rest of her friends are busy, distracting reporters with interviews or being general nuisances to officers, all to give Lup some extra time for goodbyes. So she takes it as the gift it is, and walks up to Barry, heart in her throat.

“Hey,” she says, smiling weakly.

“Hey yourself,” he mutters back. 

They stare for a moment, each unsure what to say, nothing else mattering in this moment. Lup freezes, and then she acts. 

“Actually, fuck this,” she says, and she pulls him close, and then dips him into a deep kiss. She can hear camera flashes going off, but she doesn’t care. None of that matters. It’s over, and Barry is safe, and they’re together. Or they will be. 

Lup pulls them back up, and Barry looks at her in wonder, one hand coming up to rest on her cheek. “Lup-”

She puts a finger to his lips. “I’ll be back soon,” she whispers. 

And she lets Hurley lead her into a car, and they drive away.


	8. I always said this was a Candlenights fic and I meant it!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A lot can change in a year. But a lot can stay the same, too.

Snow falls in a gentle dance outside the windows of a small house in Goldcliff. Warm candlelight burns from every window, including the large bay in which a woman sits, bundled in blankets and nose in a textbook. Around her, the house is hectic, her family scrambling to throw together decorations for the coming festivities, but she doesn’t move from her watchpost in the window. Lup’s earned a break by now. 

So she sits, listening with a soft smile to the clattering of bowls and whisks in the kitchen, to Kravitz’s gentle pleadings for the cat to get off the model trains, to Julia lifting Magnus on her shoulders so they can string lights around the ceilings. Most of her ragtag family have made their way to this house by now, almost a year after the events that threw them all together. There’s only a few left before they can get started. 

But Lup is interrupted from her vigil by a tap on the shoulder. As she turns, she’s met with the smiling face of Sloane, who reaches out a hand. “Come on,” she says softly. “They’ll be here soon, and you can take a break from studying for just a moment.”

Lup cracks a smile, setting her book to the side. “Yeah, sure, okay, but is this out of the kindness of your heart or does someone need to fight Taako again?” 

Sloane’s face falls dramatically. “He’s holding the alcohol hostage for baking and Hurley’s about to kick him in the shins.” 

“Yeah, I’m not getting involved in that,” Lup says, but she takes Sloane’s hand and pulls herself up anyway. “You realize that’s like, the shitty cooking stuff, right? Ask Avi if you want the _good_ stuff.”

Sloane’s eyes go wide. “Thank you, you’re a lifesaver,” she mutters fervently, then rushes out with a shouted “Hey Hurley! Guess what!”

Lup laughs and makes her way into the kitchen, where she’s accosted by what seems to be a whirlwind of flour. Stumbling back, coughing, she watches in awe as a crazed and intricately timed dance seems to play out over the linoleum floor. Taako is at its center, a cookbook in one hand and whisk in the other as he shouts directions to Carey, Angus, and Killian, who bustle around him fetching spices, tossing ingredients to each other, and mixing and pouring whatever they’ve just been handed. Besides a few spots where it looks like eggs impacted the ceiling, their system seems to be working quite well, and so Lup leaves them to it. 

Instead, she makes her way out to the living room, where it looks like a party store has exploded. Kravitz is still fussing with the train set around the Candlenights bush, but Magnus and Julia rocket around with tinsel and Noelle is holding one prosthetic arm with her other in order to get some extra reach into the corners with streamers. Somehow Lucretia has been absolutely covered in glitter, but this doesn’t stop her from perching on the edge of this chaos and regaling Avi and Merle with tales of her work exploits. Lup rests there for a moment, drinking in the chaos and love and joy, pushing down her anxiety at what’s soon to come and thinking back in wonder at the past year.

After the final stand against Wonderland, after Lup turned herself in, things were rough for a bit, she won’t lie. She was in fact bustled off to jail, for a short time at least, and the less said about that the better. But Ren, through the grace of Istus and also probably mob connections, had found one hell of a lawyer in Brad Bradson. Lup’s dark past was a double-edged sword - she had done some terrible things for the Chivilles, but she also knew what they had done. Within a month she was out on a plea deal and into witness protection across the country in Neverwinter. 

The months that followed were quiet and lonely. Being cut off from her family, even those she had just met, was something she knew would happen. But she didn’t know how much it would hurt. She dove into her studies, barely leaving her new apartment even as the dreary winter warmed to spring, her only interactions with lawyers, judges, and Marshals. 

Or at least until one day there was a polite knock at the door, followed by an insistent hammering. Bleary eyed and annoyed, Lup answered her door ready to yell at whatever salesman this may be, only to have her jaw drop in shock. That’s all the reaction time she was given before Taako swept her up into a crushing hug. 

“Taako- what- how- I’m in fucking witness protection!” she squeaked as he let her go. From behind Taako, Hurley and Kravitz sighed in unison.

“Yep, we know, and we had a whole explanation to give before Taako ambushed you,” Hurley said. “But, er, your lawyers, doctor, and family had a bit of a discussion and decided at this point it was probably safe enough and healthier for you to come home.”

Lup stared as Kravitz said, “What she means is witness protection fucking sucks and between you and all our badass new friends you’ll be fine staying with us for the rest of the trial.” He fidgeted for a moment before continuing, “I mean, if you want, this was a bit presumptuous, OOF-”

Lup had pulled him in for a hug of his own, beaming so hard she thought her face would split. Within an hour her bags were packed and they were started on the long drive back to Goldcliff.

The months that followed were less than ideal, but still better than she could have hoped. There were rules - she wasn’t allowed to have weapons, or to be out of the house without at least one person with her, but that was trivial. Quite honestly, Lup had expected to be in a maximum security prison by this point, so she had nothing to complain about. Her many new friends came by to visit almost daily, she had access to all the books and resources she wanted, and she was able to re-forge her relationship with her brother, this time without secrets. 

There was only one thing missing.

There were two key witnesses in the elaborate case against Lydia, Edward, and their entire enterprise. One was Lup, as a major player in the less-than-legal business. But when it came to the scientific and industry side of things, Barry Bluejeans was indispensable. 

And as they were so important, the prosecution could not risk even the chance that they would corroborate stories, or exchange any information about the case, or the Chiville’s lawyers would tear their credibility to pieces. So for however long the trial lasted, they were forbidden from communicating in any way.

Of course, nothing as petty as that could stop their family from meddling. Noelle supplied Lup and Barry with a seemingly endless supply of burner phones, and at least once a week they could be found in enthusiastic conversation for so long that more than once they were cut off by batteries dying. The rest of their family carried messages - sometimes Taako would go to testify and come back with a book Barry thought she might like, or Carey would visit for the day and bring letters back to Phandalin. It wasn’t the same as being together, but it was something. 

Slowly, ever so slowly, the case began to wrap up, and Lup’s own plans came together, setting into motion a tangled web of hopes, dreams, and fears. And nearly a year of planning, waiting, and working their asses off would all come to a head today.

Lup is snapped out of her reverie by the flash of headlights and the grind of gravel in the driveway. Car doors slam and someone, probably Angus, shrieks, “They’re here!”

He’s drowned out by the louder holler of “HEY LULU, COME GET YOUR BOY!” Yeah, that was Taako. Despite herself, Lup grins and races toward the front of the house. 

Everyone’s gathered there, voices raised and eyes wide. They part to allow Lup to step out the door and down the path to the little, nondescript Camry.

Brad and Ren step out first, and a hush falls at their empty, blank expressions. Lup stills. “Did we… how’d it go?”

Brad breaks into a grin and steady, reliable, responsible Ren grabs onto Lup’s hands and starts swinging her around with glee, shouting, “WE WON! WE DID IT, WE WON!” 

Behind her, the house breaks into roaring cheers. Ren lets go of Lup, who stumbles, lightheaded and dizzy from the spinning and relief. She rests one hand on the hood of the car and watches as its final occupant steps out.

Barry Bluejeans stands in the gently falling snow, looking just as happy and nervous as Lup feels. She freezes, just a moment, as the world fades away around her - and then she rushes forward and into his arms. 

It’s the best hug she’s had in years, and she’s absolutely not crying into his shoulder. 

Taako whistles, and without ending the hug Lup lifts an arm and flips him off. But she does draw back, meeting Barry’s grin with one of her own. One last squeeze and they separate, following the others inside the house.

Taako and Kravitz’s home is comfortable, but not large, and Lup will never know how they managed to fit a table for almost twenty in it. One end starts in the kitchen and the other ends in the living room, and there’s probably some kind of witchcraft involved, but Lup is too giddy to question it. She and Barry make their way to the end, grasping hands and bumping shoulders and reveling in actually being in the same place for the first time in a year. 

Once they’re all seated, the questions start flying. “So, that’s it? It’s over?” Carey asks, and Brad grins.

“Yeah, the Chivilles and their cronies are going away for a long, long time.”

Cheers rise up around the table, and Sloane raises a glass of what is certainly not sparkling cider. “To the downfall of manipulative shitbags!” 

Hurley raises her own. “And to justice mostly legally obtained! Okay, like half, maybe a third, but still, cheers!” 

Glasses chime around the table as cries of cheers resound. Merle stands up on his chair.

“To the spirit of this holiday, and how it drew all of us together into a wonderful new life, I’d like to first thank Pan, and everything he’s brought us-” and then what’s gearing up to be quite a tedious speech is cut off by Taako’s elbow in his side. Merle looks indignant. “Well fuck you too buddy, how’s that for holiday cheer?” 

“Sounds about right, old man!” Taako snarks, and then he cries, “To Candlenights!” 

As the cheers die down, Ren stands. “I have a bit of an announcement to make. Or rather, Barry does.”

Barry stands up next to Lup. “Well, uh, you know my invention that started this whole shitshow, the pancreas thing?”

“Little hard to forget, bud!” Carey calls out from down the table. He blushes. 

“Yeah, uh, that’s fair. Anyway, now that the trial is over and it’s not evidence anymore, I’ve filed for a patent? So that’s going to take some time to go through, but once it does I can make it open source, start talking with manufacturers, all that jazz to make it easily available and able to do some good.”

The table erupts into yet more cheers, with a very loud “FUCK YEAH!” from Angus, of all people. Barry blushes further and sits down. 

As the room quiets, Lup takes a deep breath. Barry, seeing this, takes her hand and gives it a squeeze. She flashes a quick, nervous smile at him before standing. “I have an announcement to make too.”

“You’re getting married!” gasps Hurley, who is more than a little tipsy by now. 

This spawns an uproar, only broken by Lup’s incredulous “No? What the fuck?!”

“Yeah, believe me, Hurley, if my sister was getting fucking married I’d make sure you all knew,” Taako adds on. Lup shoots him a quick glare before continuing.

“Actually, well - okay, so I’ve been studying like crazy all year, you’ve probably picked up on that, right?” she asks nervously. There are some very emphatic nods. “Well, it’s because I’ve been applying to colleges.”

You could hear a pin drop as the entire table seems to lean in with wide eyes. Lup smiles.

“I’ve been accepted back to the University of Tesseralia. I passed some exams so they’re going to count my old coursework, and, well - I’m on track to get a master’s in astrophysics in maybe as little as three years.” 

There’s a split second of silence, and the the loudest cheering yet as everyone jumps to their feet with congratulations and applause. Taako, not one to waste time, _vaults_ over the table to latch on to Lup, spinning her around. 

“You did it! Fuck yeah! You hear that! My sister’s a badass genius!” he shrieks, voice an octave too high. Lup laughs, joyful and carefree. 

There’s no settling down after that. The rest of dinner is a raucous affair, laughing and shouting and tossing condiments across the table. It’s hectic, it’s ridiculous, and as Lup sits basking in the chaos, she can’t imagine a better Candlenights. 

Eventually, though, it’s a little too much, and so Lup slips away to the back of the house. It’s stopped snowing, so she makes her way out onto the back step,. She sits and just thinks for a few moments, watching her breath billow out in clouds. 

She’s interrupted by three gentle knocks on the doorframe behind her, and Barry’s voice asking, “Hey- this seat taken?”

She smiles and scoots over. “Well, now it is.”

Barry takes a seat beside her, and she leans against his side. Lup stares up at the stars, thinking and wondering. 

“So - what are your plans now?” she asks. Barry fidgets.

“Well, uh, that’s a little dependent on you, I guess,” he mutters nervously. “I didn’t want to overstep...” 

She nudges him. “Come on, I’m not going to judge you.”

“Well, now that this patent is, you know, patented, I guess I can graduate,” he says softly. “That’ll take me about a year, I think, and after that… well, there’s some pretty cool biomedical research companies in Tesseralia.” 

Lup sits for a moment in silence, thinking, before she says, “I think I’d like that.” 

Barry’s smile is nearly as bright as the stars. She throws an arm over his shoulder, looking up at familiar constellations - Orion, Andromeda, Ursa Major - collections of stars, millions of miles apart, pulled together by the minds and hearts of people thousands of years ago.

Lup listens to the bustle inside the house, looks at the man to her side, and thinks about her own personal constellations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we are at the end, I guess! Thank you so much for sticking around, it’s been a wild ride and I’m legitimately stunned so many people seem to like what started as a bit of a goof. Specific thanks to a_big_apple, whose Candlenights exchange gift this was; as well as the entire TFW discord, including Kat and Bo for inadvertently giving me this buck-wild idea and Charm for inspiring so much of this fluffy blupjeans. Also thanks to Hozier, the entire cheesy action movie genre, the McElroys, and people who post nice concise explanations of how to write gunshot wounds on the internet. And since this is the point where awards shows would be turning up the music to push me off the stage, thank you so much for reading.


End file.
